Alyssa's POV:
I turned for what felt like the hundredth time, probably because my throat felt dry and raw like I'd swallowed dust. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and when I reached for the water bowl beside my bunk, it was empty.
"Of course," I hissed under my breath, glaring at the ceramic like it was responsible for the pitiful state of my life. Not even bottled water. Just nasty-ass river slop."
The workers, the trainees—hell, anyone not wearing a title in this pack—were treated like scraps.
We didn’t get luxury.
We didn’t even get decency.
Just unfiltered water pulled from gods-knew-where and rationed like we were livestock.
Rolling out of bed, I slipped into my boots, trying not to wake the others. I crept out of the dormitory, careful not to make a sound as I moved
