If I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave.
20
AMANDA
I woke up to cold.
It crawled up my back, soaking through my shirt, and burrowed into my spine like it had been waiting. My head throbbed, sharp and rhythmic, and when I opened my eyes, the light overhead flickered like it couldn’t make up its mind whether to stay on or go dark for good.
Concrete.
The kind that leached heat instead of holding it. The kind that made your bones ache no matter how you positioned yourself.
I tried to roll my shoulders. Pain spiked and stopped me short.
Okay.
Not broken.
Just restrained.
My arms were behind me, shoulders aching, wrists bound tight. Not rope. Zip ties. Industrial grade. My legs were free, but that didn’t matter much when everything above the waist was already screaming.
The air was still. Damp. It carried the scent of oil and metal, dust and mildew. Warehouse, maybe. Storage facility. Nowindows that I could see. Just a high ceiling with exposed beams and a single buzzing strip light overhead. Shadows pooled in the corners, thick and unmoving.
I blinked hard and tried to sit up. My stomach turned, the world tilting for a moment before I found balance again. My mouth was dry. My brain felt cotton-stuffed and slow.
But I wasn’t alone.
A shape moved across the room. Small. Curled in on itself like it was trying to disappear.
A girl.
She was sitting against the far wall, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them like they were the only thing holding her together. Her head was bowed, blonde hair tangled and dirty, and even from here, I could see the swelling on her cheek.
She looked young. Too young. Maybe eighteen.
She looked like I had the first time I saw the inside of a cage.
I didn’t say anything yet. I just watched her for a few more seconds, letting the details settle into my brain while I fought the disorientation clawing at the edges. Every sound echoed. Every heartbeat thudded too loud.
And under all of it, beneath the fear and fog, something sharper began to rise.
I wasn’t panicking.
Panic had teeth.
Panic made you sloppy.
And I couldn’t afford sloppy.
Not yet.
I was calculating.
She must’ve felt me looking, because her head lifted slowly.
Wide eyes. Bloodshot. Blue, maybe? It was hard to tell in the flickering light. Her lips were cracked, and there was a tremble in her jaw like she’d been holding it together for too long.
