I don’t know how long I’m out for. A few seconds. Maybe more. But even as I stir, consciousness doesn’t seem to be fully within my grasp. My body feels heavy, impossibly so. And my arms ache as Miriam drags me along the floor by my wrists, my shoulders straining like they’re going to dislocate. I can hear her muttering to herself as she pulls me along, pausing to grunt and catch her breath.

My instinct is to call out to Lois for help, but I can’t seem to get my mouth to cooperate. My head is throbbing violently, and I feel like I might puke. God, what the hell did she hit me with?

It doesn’t take long to answer that question. I see the weapon lying on the floor of my room when she finally gets me inside. It’s a solid wood paperweight from the desk. And for the first time since I arrived here, I wonder if maybe Judge isn’t the real enemy. Because Miriam didn’t hesitate to hurl that thing at the back of my head. I may have started it, but she could have easily finished it with that. As it stands, I’m fairly certain I have a concussion.

She slams the door shut and turns her venomous gaze on me, hurtling a wad of spit from her mouth onto my face.

“How does it feel to be the scum for once?” she hisses. “What have you got to say now, you little bitch?”

I moan as I try to wipe her saliva away in disgust, but it hurts too much. Everything hurts. And it only gets worse when Miriam continues her assault by kicking me in the ribs.

“You want to fuck with me? See what happens. I can make your life a living hell.”

I can’t move, and clearly, she can see that, but it doesn’t stop her from kicking me again. My only defense is to try to curl into a ball, but it doesn’t protect me when she grabs me by the hair and drags me farther into the room. For such a small woman, she’s freakishly strong, almost demonic.

I don’t want to cry, but her reign of terror won’t end as she leans down and grabs a glob of the food off the floor and smears it all over my face before forcing it into my mouth.

“Stop,” I protest weakly. But even speaking that much makes the throbbing in my head increase to the point of no return.

Miriam doesn’t stop. She continues to scoop up the food with her hands, forcing it into my mouth until my body’s involuntary reaction takes over, and I vomit it all back up.

“You’re pathetic,” she snarls. “And I’m going to enjoy watching you rot.”

With that, she finally leaves me.

12

Mercedes