Chapter 27 The Rescue

• Jane (POV)
• The silence in this place is the worst kind. Not peaceful. Not calm. It presses in on me, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the distant sound of boots on concrete or the scrape of a chair being dragged somewhere far away. I’ve learned to count time by those sounds, by how often the door opens, by how weak my body feels when I try to stand.
• My stomach aches constantly now, a dull, gnawing pain that never truly fades. My throat feels raw, like sandpaper, from thirst. Still, I refuse to beg them. I refuse to give them that satisfaction.