I struggle. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m being held here against my will.” “If I ’ad a jewelet for every inmate told me that in ’ere . . .” The guard’s laugh claps off the walls of the asylum’s basement corridor as he pushes me onward down the hall. It’s cold and dark in the basement, and my legs don’t work quite right yet. Lit by only a single flame above our heads, it resembles a crypt. I half expect to see graves. “It’s true!” I dig in my heels as he yanks me round another corner. “I’ve done nothing! Absolutely nothing! You have to listen to me! I shouldn’t be here! I’m not even crazy!” “I dun’ ’ave to listen to nuthin’.” The guard reels me in and barks in my ear. My ribs slam hard against his. “I only ’ave to make sure I deliver yuh to the butcher!” He slings me forward into a small, whitewashed room. I stumble and fall to the stone floor.
