Chapter 61

But Dakota’s faux nap was rudely interrupted by a loud creaking sound: the room’s only door opening. A single person walked in and strode up to his body. Wordlessly, he begged his nerves and muscles to calm down, just this once. He’d happily take the symptoms any other time in what remained of his life. But not now. Please. He couldn’t endure any more cuts into his skin or damage to his frail form. He had no energy left.

He felt like a shell of a person, covered in blood, stewing in his own filth. His stomach was filled with the consequences of the beatings and tooth removal. He wanted to throw up, to remove the contents, and spew it all over the newcomer’s shoes. But he could do no such thing. He had to remain still, to play dead, to cower in absolute silence. It was his only hope.