Chapter 123 Whispers In The Dark

• The cold seeped into Sofie’s bones, sharper than hunger, sharper than thirst.
• The dampness of the concrete floor clung to her black trench coat, pressing its weight against her spine. Every breath she drew felt wrong, thick with mildew, metallic like rusted iron.
• Her wrists were raw and the ropes had rubbed her skin bloody. Her fingers had gone numb long ago, a dull throb traveling up her arms.