Penelope’s POV:

My head hurts.

My chest hurts even more.

I feel like I’ve been ran over by a truck. Two trucks carrying two families of five.

The smell that greets my nose is that of disinfectant and despair. My eyes flutter open to a dark, sterile unfamiliar environment. I try to move my arms and immediately find that I can’t. All my limbs weigh a ton each.

“Wha—” I try to speak, and my dry throat closes up, preventing me from getting any words out.

“Princess? You’re awake,” a deep voice answers.

Some relief washes over me. If Vincent is here then I know I’m safe.

Turning my head,...