CHAPTER 7
She shouldn’t have read all those testimonies about Christian martyrs. For however long it’d been, for however long she’d been stuck here alone in this dark cell, her brain kept bringing to mind tales of torture and gruesome deaths from the time of the Roman Coliseum to the present day.
These stories of triumph in the face of suffering and persecution were encouraging and inspirational, but Kennedy didn’t need inspiration at the moment. She needed the consulate.
She had answered several of the guard’s questions about Ian, nothing that couldn’t be found through a quick Google search. In so doing, she earned herself a full cup of water, a trip to the bathroom, and some hard, tasteless bread.
When the man started to ask her about the documentary Ian was producing about North Kor
