HAZEL
I stood there long after she left.
The corridor felt smaller without her in it, like the walls had edged closer the moment her footsteps faded. My hands were still wrapped around the bars, fingers aching from how hard I had been gripping them. I did not remember when I started. I only knew my palms were slick with sweat and the iron was starting to get cold enough to sting.
What does that mean...
The words kept repeating in my head, ugly and sharp.
What does that mean...
I turned toward the sentinel who had been stationed just beyond my cell. He had been pretending not to listen, pretending not to see, but there was no hiding the way his eyes had followed her as she walked away.
"Call my mother," I said.
My voice sounded thinner than I wanted it to.
He did not move.
I straightened, forcing my spine into the posture that had always served me. "Did you not fucking hear me? Call my mother."
