Dawn
We haven"t reached the dungeons yet when I throw up for the first time. The guard jumps back as my breakfast splatters his boots. They quicken their pace and are glad to be rid of me by the time they throw me back in the cell.
I spend the rest next hour hovered over the wash bucket until there is nothing left of the extravagant breakfast in my stomach. Now I"m only dry heaving and spitting up stomach acid. My chest aches. My throat burns. My stomach growls. Lee tries to help me, but there is nothing he can do. At least I have stopped bleeding. I am a mess.
Boone returns the next day to swap out our waste bucket and bring us the tiniest bit of food. I eat slowly, afraid that it too will leave my stomach the same way it went in.
“Your food was laced with something,” he explains. “De
