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The shocks from Garrick’s rod hurt, but it was not the pain that caused Genna to grit her teeth. It was her own stupidity.
Once the heat left her body and she could move without her head feeling like it was about to explode, she sat up. She rested her back against the wall, and she concentrated on her breathing. She counted each inflation of her lungs, aware that each one took longer than the next, which was what she fully intended. She pulled each breath in deep, forcing the air down to the bottom of her lungs, shifting her diaphragm, doing her best to ignore the pain. And then she’d exhale, pushing as much of the stale air out, leaving her lungs so depleted that, when she allowed it, new air rushed in to fill the void.
Garrick was a coward. He had come into this cell, with
