Chapter 22

• Ariel’s fingers gripped around the glass, its rough edge pressing against her palm. Her breath hitched as she adjusted her grip, carefully twisting her wrist. The restraint bit into her skin, her flesh throbbing, but she pushed through the pain.
• With slow, deliberate movements, she began sawing at the rope. The sharp edge razors through the fibers, each stroke a battle against time and pain. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, blending with the salty stings of her tears.
• Come on. Almost there.