Unease pools in my gut, and my mouth tightens to mask it. She’s been sitting down here without a word of protest, no reactions to the squalor or the scraps she’s been fed, no requests to clean herself or even a chair to relieve the discomfort of the stone cell. She’s been a model prisoner, and now two males are dead at her feet, locked inside the cell with her. Whatever I was expecting her first move against us to be, it wasn’t this.
