*Maddox*

I am growing leery of interrogating prisoners in the dungeon, but I have no choice since I don’t trust anyone else to speak to Austin. He’s still bleeding from the injuries he sustained when he ran from me. All he has on is a pair of ratty old shorts, and he’s sitting on the dirty dungeon floor, both arms chained to the wall behind him so that he can’t even lower his arms.

I stare at him for a moment. He’s breathing heavily, and I’m not exactly sure why. I ...