55. ALONE, COLD, SCARED, AND TRAPPED

BRANDY’S P.O.V.

I woke up to a sponge bath the nurses were giving me, yet even with them done, I still smelled like smoke, still felt dirty in many places that they had not dared touch, but could I blame them? I wouldn’t either if I were them.

There was no joy. There was no sadness. There we...

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