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Layla opened her eyes and realised she was now in her bedroom prison. Dylan and those girls hadn’t killed her. A sense of relief flooded her body, and then she felt nauseated that she had ended up in that position in the first place. For two days in a row, her life had been in peril. How the hell had she ended up like this? She sat up gingerly so she wouldn't aggravate anything. Her head had hit the concrete pretty hard; she was surprised it wasn’t hurting more than it was. Even her ribs felt only slightly tender. There was blood on her hand from when she stabbed one of them, and despite everything, it made her feel horrible. She wasn’t a murderer. She only had weapons for self-defence but had never used them against anyone before. And those girls had been pretty messed up in the head, s