The light hit me before my eyes fully opened.
White. Violent. Burning straight through my skull.
I blinked once.
Twice.
By the third time, the room finally stopped looking like a washed-out nightmare and started taking shape around me.
Concrete walls.
Metal table.
A camera mounted on a tripod directly in front of me.
And soldiers.
My wrists were zip-tied behind the chair hard enough to make my fingers numb. My ankles had been bound too. Every tiny movement scraped plastic deeper into my skin.
"Name."
The voice came sharp.
Official.
Cold.
I didn't answer.
The camera lens stared directly at me like it was waiting for me to become something ugly.
"NAME."
I finally looked up.
The soldier questioning me sat across the table with papers in his lap and a pen tapping against his knee. Young guy. Buzzcut. Probably trying way too hard to seem intimidating.
Behind him stood two more soldiers near the door.
And in the corner—
Jennifer.
Watching.
Not speaking.
