Chapter 112

Imogen

Cyrus leaned up against the thin bars separating us from freedom. He turned his head from side to side, glancing in every direction and trying to survey the larger room where they stashed us. No one had been by since I woke up.

"I definitely think the boat is smaller than I first assumed," he said when he turned from his lookout point.

I nodded, but inside I didn’t feel as enthusiastic. What did it matter if we were on a big boat or a small boat? We were on a boat with no idea where we were.

At least a full day had passed since Cyrus originally said we’d escape, but it seemed so much longer.

Time stretched out and then fell in on itself when there was nothing to do, no food to eat, and sleep came haphazardly. We had no blankets or pillows to rest on, and even when I tried to catch a few minutes here or there, I always woke up in a panic. Turned out it was difficult to fall asleep when you were worried you’d be dead at any minute.