The grand stone corridors of the wing felt entirely endless, each step Hannah took was a monument to raw, unvarnished physical trauma. She was limping heavily, her gait uneven and fractured as the sharp, throbbing agony from the tear in her delicate vagina radiated upward into her lower abdomen with every single movement. Her pale skin was slick with a cold, frantic sweat, and she had to frequently press her palm against the freezing stone walls just to keep her balance, her breath coming in ragged, shallow wheezes.
When Hannah finally reached the heavy wooden door of the shared room, her strength gave out completely. She practically collapsed forward, pushing the door open with the weight of her shoulder and stumbling blindly into the dim, torch-lit room.
