"For flames were scattered around among these tombs. The pits were therefore so intensely fired, no tradesman needs his iron half so hot."
-Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy
I sat down on the sofa and covered my face with my palms. I was ready to start pulling my hair out in frustration. There was only so much that I could take after everything that went on in the past several weeks. The potion wasn't going to work, and the dreadful silence was making me queasy.
"What am I going to do now?" I asked, my anger evident. I needed to see Ricky, hear his encouraging voice. There was nothing wrong with Ronan; we just weren't very close. It'd been over two weeks since I had been locked up in that cell by Alexis and I had no idea what happened with Zach and Emma. Also, who was looking after her daughter?
"This complicates things, Maxine. Maybe if I ..."