Chapter twelve

"Becca!" A voice, low, deep but soft, called.

I closed my eyes even tighter not wanting to wake up from my dream where I was the queen of the dark, sitting on a black acrylic royal chair with a gold wood finish. Every morning I woke up, I would walk to the mausoleum connected to my palace by an underground tunnel, clanking my heeled boots along the cobblestone tiles as I checked on my prisoners. Each cell had someone who had crossed my line one way or another. It wasn't until I walked to the end where two cells were separated from the rest. The cells