Before I could scream, a hand clamped over my mouth.
"Nadina sends her warmest regards," one of them sneered.
And then the beating began.
Fists rained down. Kicks to my ribs. Fingers clawed at my skin. One bit my shoulder, another yanked my hair until I screamed. This was a contracted hit inside the walls. Paid for, arranged, delivered with the efficiency of someone who had done this before. There was nothing random about it. Seven women, midnight, an unlocked cell. Someone had greased the right palms.
I whimpered and tried to fight, but it was useless.
When they were done, I was barely breathing. My body throbbed. Blood soaked the floor. I heard faint shouting, guards rushing in, and then everything went dark.
When I opened my eyes, everything smelled like antiseptic.
The sharp beeping of machines echoed beside me. I was in a hospital. Pain lit up every nerve in my body.
"Don't sit up," a voice warned.
I turned slowly.
The same doctor. The one who'd warned me before.
"How do you feel?"
I tried to shrug. My shoulders screamed.
"Terrible," I rasped.
My voice was gone. My throat was shredded.
"You were in critical condition. You've been unconscious for three days."