March Forth (The Woodford Chronicles Book 1) - Plot & Excerpts
The door felt like it was made of iron, though it appeared to be an ordinary, wooden door. She had been expecting a satisfying “thud” sound, which would hopefully echo through the hall and let Steven or whoever else might be within earshot know that she was angry, and not at all scared. Instead, there was a complete lack of sound, as if she had just punched a wall of cotton. She stood, staring at the door and sucking on her freshly injured knuckles. Her burgeoning anxiety, seeing that frustration had done more harm than good, decided to take over. Her heart fluttered unpleasantly in her chest. As she tried to clear her mind and maintain calm, she let her gaze wander around the small room. It looked terribly institutional. There was a small, twin-sized bed with a thin, uncomfortable-looking mattress covered with thin, grey sheets and blankets. A nondescript grey dresser stood against the grey wall. As a test, she opened a drawer. In the drawer were two pairs of grey cotton-poly blend pants with elastic waistbands. She opened another drawer and found large, shapeless t-shirts to match.
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