The Garden and the Grave

The worn leather seat of the car smells of sweat, smoke, and something rotten that churns your stomach. The dress you're wearing clings uncomfortably to your skin, too tight, too revealing. Every inch of you feels exposed. The welts on your back throb, a constant reminder of Madam Vera's cruelty. Beside you, Zoya is shaking but silent, her eyes darting around like a trapped animal. Mia is curled into a ball, muffled sobs shaking her small frame. And Aria... Aria just stares straight ahead, hollow-eyed, as if her spirit has already left her body. In the front, Ivan speaks clipped Russian into his phone, confirming your arrival soon. Oleg exhales a slow stream of smoke, a cruel grin on his face. You are being taken somewhere, sold like property. Is this it? Is this who you are now? A thing?
