Chapter 63

Summer's POV Suzanna didn't answer. She sat still on the narrow cot, wrists resting limply in her lap, her eyes fixed on a crack in the floor like she could fall through it if she stared hard enough. Her silence didn't surprise me. She was a coward. Cowards always hoped silence would be mistaken for strength. I stepped forward and crouched in front of her, lowering my voice until it was barely above a whisper. "You'd better say the truth now, Suzanna." She blinked, but didn't lift her head. "Because I'm the calmest I'm going to be. And you should know better than anyone—I have time. And I have ways." Still nothing. But I saw it—the tiniest twitch in her fingers. A flicker of breath caught in her throat. I leaned in just a little closer. "How do you think Moore would handle it?" I murmured. "Having his body slowly pulled apart. No anesthetic. Just pain. Maybe we start with a kidney. Then a lung. Maybe I let him scream for a while before we move on to the next thing." Her head jerked up.