I was startled awake, but before a single sound could escape me a heavy hand fell over my mouth.
Tired brown eyes bore into mine with an urgent message: Don’t speak.
I sat up and the woman dropped her hand. We were in a cell more than forty women all cramming together, some as young as ten others older than my mother. The fear was palpable it hung in the air mixed with the scent of urine and feces—but not a single sound escaped anyone.
Where are we? I wanted to ask but I knew exactly where we were. The holding cells, awaiting trial.
Bars made up the far wall, reaching high up into the shadows. Dirt made our beds.
Belladonna.
In a frantic panic, I looked around the cell. But she was nowhere to be found. My only hope was that Odin had taken her, that he’d run as far away as possible.
