Astrid’s POV

Ever since they shoved me inside and locked the door, the walls have been pressing, breathing and contracting when I breath. I can still see her face.

I curl my knees against my chest and press my palms over my eyes, but it doesn’t matter. The memory now lives in my body now. Her skin glowing.

I laid there like a coward.

A sob clawed its way up, but I swallow it back. I’ve cried enough to fill a basin, they think I’m hysterical, they think I’m dangerous, that I’m ...