* * * Hope’s POV * * *
By the time we have made it to my room, parents Kimberley and Alice have joined us, looking wounded as they take in the state of me.
“I’m sorry,” I say to each of them, but they silence me.
They have no choice but to cut the hospital gown from my body. They wash and dress me while my hands are still handcuffed together. They tend to my wounded feet, working quickly and in silence, not knowing when Miss Rita will descend upon us, and each of them is apprehensive about her arrival.
When I am ready and fully dressed, the room seems eerily quiet despite the other women being with me. We aren’t talking. I’m sure that they, like me, are thinking over my actions and the repercussions that they might have. I wasn’t expecting to have this time to contemplate what I hav
