Although the walk to the cells was made in relative silence, Ann's mind was in overdrive.
Whenever she thought she was making some headway toward solving issues, something else invariably cropped up and added to her ever-mounting list of things that needed sorting out.
She was rapidly starting to gain at least a little understanding of why her father just handed everything over to the Elders. The constant issues were like a suffocating weight on top of her, that just seemed to fight harder to drown her with every passing day.
But she wasn't her father. She wasn't going to give in that easily.
As they reached the entrance to the cells, the door swung open in front of her, startling her for the second time today and she frowned as the figure of Cornelius froze in front of her with a look of abstract guilt plastered all over his face.