Bab 68: Chapter 68: The Fortunates

I flinch as a rogue drop of cold, stagnant rainwater falls from a crack in the stone ceiling and splashes on the tip of my nose. It sobers me, and I blink away the fog.

I'm still alive.

Still locked up.

Still a pending Fortunate.

I grant my cheeks reprieve from the iron bars that hold me captive and pull away from them.