Nine
Despite the gas pumped through the ventilation system meant to keep prisoners calm, Grace had tossed and turned. Her nerves were frayed. She’d used the adjacent private bathroom, but it had no mirror. Nothing that could be broken and used to hurt herself. Even without evidence, she was certain her face was as puffy as it felt, the dark circles no doubt pronounced.
When her breakfast tray slid through the slot in the door, she’d taken it, but she’d been unable to eat. She picked at the sweet roll and fruit. She didn’t dare touch the meat or eggs, fearful that it might be poisoned on Khan’s order.
As the morning stretched on, there was nothing else to do but wait for her escorts to arrive and take her to the trial. It was impossible to tell what time it was, not with her lenscape dis
