Davina's POV
I felt hollow. The cold metal wall of the ship bit into my temple as I pressed my head against it.
My eyes stayed open, but I wasn't really looking at anything.
The ship groaned low and deep as it began to move.
I wrapped my arms tight around my chest—not because I was cold, but because I needed to keep myself from breaking apart. One loose grip and I'd shatter completely.
Nobody talked. We were all drained dry. The crying had stopped hours ago. We'd used up every tear somewhere between the screaming and begging for our lives while guns pointed at us.
Our lives were worthless.
That harsh reality had followed me my entire life.
All the shame, all the cruel words, all the dirty looks on the street, all the doors slammed in our faces—none of it hurt like this. Like being yanked from my bed like some kind of criminal.
Like being shoved onto this ship in the dead of night like a plague being cut out of a town.
