Sam
I don't know how long I've been sitting here.
Time doesn't work the same way when you're zip-tied to a bed in a room with no windows. No clock. No way to tell if it's been hours or days.
My wrists ache. The plastic digs into my skin every time I shift, leaving red marks that burn when I move.
My head still pounds from whatever they gave me.
And Brennan's words keep looping in my mind.
Your mother thought she could fight too. She was wrong.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the thought away.
My dad couldn't save her.
And I don't know if he can save me.
The sound of the door opening makes me flinch.
I look up, expecting Brennan again. Expecting more cold, calculated cruelty.
But it's not him.
It's a girl.
She's young—maybe nineteen, twenty at most. Long dark hair pulle
