F O U R T E E N
I am marched back down the corridor, still handcuffed. As I go, I can’t help but wonder if I made the wrong decision. Not about giving up my life—but about giving up Bree’s. Should I have said yes for her sake?
By refusing, I have effectively given her a death sentence. I feel torn by remorse. But ultimately, I can’t help but think Bree would rather die, too, than see innocent people get hurt.
I feel numb as they shove me from behind, back down the corridor from which I came, and wonder what will become of me now. Are they marching me to the arena? What will it be like? And what will become of Bree? Will they really kill her? Have they already killed her? Will they put her into s*****y? Or, worst of all, will she be forced to fight in the arena, too?
And then an even wo
