When I woke up, my head rested in Mrs. Lee’s lap. I blinked my eyes open and stared up at the woman who looked like she had been beaten and tortured for the past day by The Council. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but she looked so bad.
All because of me.
“Where are we?” I whispered, my voice hoarse and my throat dry.
I hesitantly sat up and held a hand to my head, grunting. Milo sat in the corner of a cell with his head against a stone wall and his body stripped of all clothes. His skin was coated in a thin layer of dried blood.
“In their prison,” Milo said.
Chest tightening, I glanced over at Mrs. Lee, who had tears on her cheeks.
“My son has been waiting for you for years,” she said, a tear sliding down her wrinkled face. She gently grasped my hand with her trembling one.
