Mira Pov
The next morning—or what I assumed was morning—I woke up with a stiff neck and a growing sense that this place wasn't going to let me leave anytime soon. I hadn't slept well.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Grandma. Not clearly. Just flashes. Her name on my phone. The fear in her voice. The crash I'd heard before the call ended. Every time the memory replayed, I woke up before I could reach the end of it.
The room looked exactly the same as it had before I fell asleep. No windows. No clocks. No way of knowing how much time had passed. Just rows of benches, tired faces, and guards standing near the exits like statues.
A girl across from me sat with her knees pulled against her chest. She looked younger than everyone else, maybe sixteen at most.
Her eyes were swollen from
