5
Marnie lay as still as possible and pretended to be asleep. She kept her eyes open only a fraction, in case she was being watched. She couldn’t hear anyone near her, no shifting feet or rustling clothes, but she couldn’t trust that. She couldn’t trust anything.
She lay on her back, on some kind of soft surface. There was something warm on top of her, maybe a blanket. It looked white. Like thick white wool. But it smelled like something else. Like freshly-cut green grass.
Marnie moderated her breath. She had to stay quiet. How would she sound if she were still sleeping? Slow and steady. Calm.
Above her she could see the dark night sky still swirling with snow. The ceiling must be made of glass.
This wasn’t the Factory. Or at least no room she had seen there so far. If Major Zimholt o
