Meliza's POV
"I think we're going to die here." Jessa's voice was soft, but the weight of her words hit me like a hammer. She shifted beside me on the cold floor, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if trying to shield herself from the fear creeping in.
"We don't have food, we don't have water," she continued, her voice cracking. "How long are they planning to keep us like this?"
I felt the same. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and my throat burned with thirst, but Andrew hadn't come back. I had no idea how long we had been here since they had taken my watch, stripping me of any sense of time.
And worst of all—we had no idea when he would return, to if the next time he did, it would be to kill us.
"Don't worry," I said, forcing my voice to be steady. "I'm sure he'll feed us."
It was a lie. It's a weak, pitiful lie. But I needed to give Jessa something to hold onto some sliver of hope, no matter how fragile.