Candance's POV
"Will he even make an effort to get in touch with me?" I pondered the locations of my friend as I sat on the frigid floor of the prison and made patterns in the sand with my fingers.
At this time, I've been in this location for at least a week. Because I stopped keeping track of the days, I had no idea how long we were there, but the longer we were there, the less comfort we were provided. We were no longer in possession of a mattress, blankets, or food that was supplied on a consistent basis.
Both Chloe and I were famished, and neither of us had ever before had such an intense want for food in our lives. I questioned whether this was his new method of torturing us because we were no longer given even the inadequate thin bread and soup that was served to the other
