Chapter 217

• Leah's POV
• The first thing I remembered was the cold. Not winter's bite, but the slick, oily chill of concrete against bare skin. My knees were scraped raw. My breath came in ragged bursts, fogging the air like gun smoke. I pressed my palms flat against the alley wall, felt the grime cling to my fingertips.
• Naked. The word slithered through my skull, venomous. Not just my body - my pride flayed open, left to rot beside dumpsters reeking of stale beer and regret.