The room was dark and cold but Myra barely noticed. She sat on her straw-stuffed mattress, digging her fingers into her skirt while staring at nothing.

Her cheeks still hurt and her sore hand was wrapped in white, wool bandages.

For once, the silence didn't hurt. It was oddly comforting, becoming the closest friend she could get here.

She stared up at the moon that peeked through the tiny window. Its soft light barely graced the hole she was in.

She turned back and stared at the darkness. ...