This wasn’t a nightmare. Or rather, it was a nightmare, but she wasn’t asleep.
was For a while Max had held out hope that it was all a bad dream. That she’d wake up wrapped up in the cheap sleeping bag beneath the underpass after spending a fruitless night sleeping among the homeless. Then she’d get up, shake out the cramps from sitting in one position for so long and take as many as she could convince to the nearest breakfast cart or cafe to get them all something to eat.
But it wasn’t a bad dream. It was reality. Which meant she was screwed, and not in a good way. Shivering, she huddled at the back of her cage. The bars were hard against her back and her hand throbbed like a b***h where she’d cut it. She hadn’t managed to move the damn bar an inch. All she’d done was cut herself up. Kn
