Catherine's POV
I don’t stop hitting the door.
My fists burn, the sound dull and useless against the thick metal, like the room is swallowing everything I give it. I shout too, though my voice already feels thin, like it doesn’t belong to me anymore. Nothing comes back. No echo. No footsteps. Nothing.
So I move.
I jump. I pace. I stomp my feet, arms wrapped tight around myself, doing anything I can think of to keep the cold from settling deeper into my bones. It already feels too deep. Like it’s inside me now, not just around me.
I don’t let myself stop.
Because if I stop, I might not start again.
Time stretches in a strange way. It could be minutes. It could be hours. My legs start to shake, and I slow down without meaning to. My breath comes out uneven, fogging the air in front o
