8
I feel like I’ve been placed in an upright coffin.
My shoulders touch the box on either side of me, and there’s barely enough room front and back to move at all. There is some ambient light coming in, so that I know exactly how little space I’ve got. And I can’t hear a peep. Apparently, this thing is soundproof.
Athena just put all our asses in time out. Big time.
“Okay, Brandee Jean,” I say aloud. “You’ve got this. Remember the old Miss America pageants that Mama had on VHS? They put those girls in an isolation box, so they couldn’t hear the answers the other girls gave during the question and answer session.
“It’s the same thing,” I tell myself. “It’s the same damn thing. And if Miss Iowa can sit in an isolation box and walk out smiling, you can bet your a*s that the five-time dis
