Chapter 112

I wake to the bite of stone under my cheek and a chain rattling every time I breathe too hard. Cold air clings to my skin, damp and heavy, smelling of rust and mould. My head feels like someone split it open and poured sand in, but the weight at my wrists and ankles brings me back sharper than the ache does. Shackled. To the floor. Across the room, in the weak glow of a single bulb swinging above