How many pages is the cursed child book

‎Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

Publisher Description

The official playscript of the original West End production of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

It was always difficult being Harry Potter and it isn't much easier now that he is an overworked employee of the Ministry of Magic, a husband, and father of three school-age children.

While Harry grapples with a past that refuses to stay where it belongs, his youngest son Albus must struggle with the weight of a family legacy he never wanted. As past and present fuse ominously, both father and son learn the uncomfortable truth: sometimes, darkness comes from unexpected places.

The playscript for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was originally released as a 'special rehearsal edition' alongside the opening of Jack Thorne's play in London's West End in summer 2016. Based on an original story by J.K. Rowling, John Tiffany and Jack Thorne, the play opened to rapturous reviews from theatregoers and critics alike, while the official playscript became an immediate global bestseller.

This definitive and final playscript updates the 'special rehearsal edition' with the conclusive and final dialogue from the play, which has subtly changed since its rehearsals, as well as a conversation piece between director John Tiffany and writer Jack Thorne, who share stories and insights about reading playscripts. This edition also includes useful background information including the Potter family tree and a timeline of events from the Wizarding World prior to the beginning of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

GENRE

Arts & Entertainment

RELEASED

2017

July 25

LANGUAGE

EN

English

LENGTH

352

Pages

PUBLISHER

Pottermore Publishing

SELLER

Pottermore Limited

SIZE

25.1

MB

AUDIENCE

Fifth Grade

Customer Reviews

Harry Potter

I wanted sooooo much more omg 😩I need a part 3 and 4

Amazing!!

This was amazing. It was alway advertised as a play script, because it is an actual play. They made it a book so those who couldn’t see the play would still be able to experience the next chapter of Harry Potter. I loved it!

Biggest Hp fan!!!

Love it please tell me next thing it’s gonna be a movie. You can still use Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint,and Emma Watson. They are all a young age still 28-31. Thank you.

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Other Books in This Series

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Parts One and Two: The Official Playscript of the Original West End Production: The Official Script Book of the Original West End Production (Paperback)

1. Home
2. Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Parts One and Two: The Official Playscript of the Original West End Production: The Official Script Book of the Original West End Production (Paperback)

By J. K. Rowling, Jack Thorne, John Tiffany

$12.99

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Other Books in Series

• #1: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Paperback): $10.99
• #2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Paperback): $10.99
• #3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Paperback): $10.99
• #4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Paperback): $12.99
• #5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Paperback): $12.99
• #6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Paperback): $12.99
• #7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Paperback): $14. 99

Description

The Eighth Story. Nineteen Years Later. Based on an original story by J.K. Rowling, John Tiffany, and Jack Thorne, a play by Jack Thorne.

It was always difficult being Harry Potter and it isn’t much easier now that he is an overworked employee of the Ministry of Magic, a husband, and father of three school-age children.While Harry grapples with a past that refuses to stay where it belongs, his youngest son, Albus, must struggle with the weight of a family legacy he never wanted. As past and present fuse ominously, both father and son learn the uncomfortable truth: Sometimes, darkness comes from unexpected places.The playscript for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was originally released as a "special rehearsal edition" alongside the opening of Jack Thorne’s play in London’s West End in summer 2016. Based on an original story by J.K. Rowling, John Tiffany, and Jack Thorne, the play opened to rapturous reviews from theatergoers and critics alike, while the official playscript became an immediate global bestseller.

About the Author

J.K. Rowling is the author of the seven Harry Potter books, which have sold over 500 million copies, been translated into over 80 languages, and made into eight blockbuster films. She also wrote three short series companion volumes for charity, including Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which later became the inspiration for a new series of films. Harry’s story as a grown-up was later continued in a stage play, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, which J.K. Rowling wrote with playwright Jack Thorne and director John Tiffany.

In 2020, she returned to publishing for younger children with the fairy tale The Ickabog, which she initially published for free online for children in lockdown, later donating all her book royalties to help vulnerable groups affected by the Covid-19 pandemic.

J.K. Rowling has received many awards and honors for her writing, including for her detective series written under the name Robert Galbraith. She supports a wide number of humanitarian causes through her charitable trust Volant, and is the founder of the children’s care reform charity Lumos.

For as long as she can remember, J.K. Rowling wanted to be a writer, and is at her happiest in a room, making things up. She lives in Scotland with her family.

Praise For…

Praise for the playscript of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Parts One and Two"A compelling, stay-up-all-night read... The suspense here is electric and nonstop." -- The New York Times"Fans can breathe easy knowing this play has been respectfully and lovingly wrought. Tensions thrum, spells fly but at center stage, as always in the Potterverse, is the overriding importance of love and friendship, especially in the face of danger.” -- Booklist, starred review"Whether encountered on stage or on the page, this trip back into the magical world of Hogwarts is thrilling." -- Telegraph

Praise for the playscript of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Parts One and Two"A compelling, stay-up-all-night read. .. The suspense here is electric and nonstop." -- The New York Times"Fans can breathe easy knowing this play has been respectfully and lovingly wrought. Tensions thrum, spells fly but at center stage, as always in the Potterverse, is the overriding importance of love and friendship, especially in the face of danger.” -- Booklist, starred review"Whether encountered on stage or on the page, this trip back into the magical world of Hogwarts is thrilling." -- Telegraph

Read online "Damned" by Lana Meyer - LitRes

The whole world cannot crush us, and only we ourselves destroy ourselves from within. (c)

Margaret Mitchell. Gone with the Wind

Brendan

It's all just a nightmare.

I forcefully squeeze my eyelids in the hope that when I open them again, time will turn back and everything will be as it should be.

As it was almost eighteen years before this day.

Everything I was taught, everything I was prepared for... Now it seemed like a sly smile of fate, a mirage of some other life that no longer belonged to me.

Just yesterday I was proud. I was not just a name. I was everything to hundreds and thousands of people who praised me and saw hope in my features.

This feeling was given to people not only by me, but also by my brother.

But at this moment my temples were scratched by the loose earth on which I was lying. Right now, I heard a heart-rending hubbub from the cries of the crowd, thirsting for reprisals against me.

Above your king. Over a traitor.

But the worst thing was the incredible pain that enveloped the entire back - from the very beginning of the vertebrae to the back of the head. The agony was savage, as if my skin had been torn open and a dozen daggers thrust into my gut. So deep that the metal would be completely hidden, leaving only the handles painted with the family crest in the light.

I knew that no matter how much the crowd asked, there would be no more blows. A minute will pass, and I will be lifted from the ground, thrown into a car in which I will bleed. I doubt even that there will give me any help.

These thoughts suddenly made me want to sob, but I immediately reproached myself for my own weakness.

I'm not like that. This is not what I have been taught all my life. The word "weak" was not in my vocabulary from birth.

At the top of my vocabulary were words like: "Honor. Courage. Pride."

In all five languages ​​that I knew.

Suddenly, the training seemed so ridiculous to me. What is the value of my knowledge now? Numerous languages, music, martial arts in which I had no equal?

None. I have not yet realized that now only darkness and the stigma of a traitor await me for the rest of my life. Well, and, of course, the cold and loneliness in the underground cell of Adinburgh.

I knew that only a minute had passed since the last blow, but, lost in my own thoughts, it felt like an eternity.

The pain was so strong that I no longer tried to get up. I remember how it ended the last time, and I'm not stupid enough to risk it again.

- Kill him! Kill him! Death to the false prince! Death to the dirty traitor and murderer! For Bastian!

For Bastian. For Bastian. For Bastian.

The space of the square was filled with shouts praising my brother.

At the thought of Bastian, my heart clenched with another pain that was much stronger than the one that was physically inflicted.

This pain was deeper - it hit every neuron in my brain and flowed right into my heart, filling it with darkness.

I didn't want it to be like this.

Mother, Father, Meridiana. None of us deserved to die.

This people who now hate me do not deserve the turmoil and pain that await them in the power of Parliament.

Family.

That word, which until recently had the most important meaning in my life, suddenly lost all meaning.

I let a miserly tear roll down my cheek as I finally realized that none of them survived. Maybe just Mary. They wouldn't dare to kill a child...?

How dare you. They would have slit her throat in no time if they had seen her innocent baby face for even a moment.

Mary flashed before her eyes - burning tears flow down her plump cheeks; a knife placed at her neck spawned small drops of blood flowing from her veins...

Just one movement. On each of us. And the rest of our kind is forever exterminated and plunged into the dungeons.

No. She was probably left in order to serve as a porcelain doll for the whole people. A toy that would remind you that the Windsors once existed in this country.

She will be shown on television, taken to secular gatherings and dressed in beautiful dresses. Whisper behind her back and point to the back of her head, conjuring:

"…Look. It's all that's left of the royal blood. It's the last one."

And then, when she reaches childbearing age, they will kill her too. So that she does not give birth to a new heir.

“Puppy,” a rough voice and a steel grip on my shoulder brought me out of my state of unconscious delirium and delving into my own memories and thoughts, “well, how did you like it, lying royal bastard ?!

The vile smell of the executioner's breath caused me to vomit. His touch was disgusting. Nobody ever touched us. Not to mention such arrogance and disrespect for their own ruler.

The man, disfigured by the iron mask that completely hid his face, could not hide the redness in his soulless eyes. A week ago, I could have given an order that would have permanently separated his head from his body.

“I will kill you,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “No one dares to talk to me like that. Nobody dares to talk like that… With the king, – the last word barely escaped my lungs. In this environment of protest, my squeaking about my own blood now seemed meaningless.

And the executioner was amused.

– King, – he snorted aloud, giving me a slap on the back of the head. The crowd cheered in approval, wishing the show could continue. But I found the strength to open my eyes wider and look into the faces of these lost, misguided souls who turned out to be pawns in the hands of our state.

I would like to hate them.

I wanted to hate because for eighteen years they smiled at me and praised me, and now they demanded my shame with such passion. They wanted the executioner to kill me.

But I felt only love. Boundless love for his people.

This is what my mother taught me.

That's all I have left of my family - knowledge. Moral principles that live in me and ask to come out.

They want to destroy them in me. Every single one. I knew in my heart that it would be better to die than go to Adinburgh.

And that's why they prepared this fate for me. Forever christened with the stigma of shame, chained and sent to Purgatory.

- From this day on, you are a pitiful worm, marked by the hatred of all the people. You deserve it,” the executioner whispered softly in my ear, once again bestowing me with his vile smell. To the clear and loud beats of the drum, he led me to the car, holding the hair on top of my head.

People were screaming.

They hated me.

My bare feet slammed into the rocks on the ground, but instead of howling in pain that tore through my soul, I gathered all my last strength and lifted my chin high.

My shoulders straightened automatically, my lungs received the long-awaited waves of oxygen, which I last enjoyed with such greed.

The sun came out after the rain - just for a moment. It said goodbye to me. In a dungeon, it is unlikely to please me. It often bypasses this part of the world.

Dissatisfied whispers told me that people were not satisfied. They didn't want me to behave the way I used to. As if he was still the heir.

I was not .

Me and are heirs.

I gave everyone I could with a look that left them in no doubt about it.

- You can't act like that, worm. You are not Bastian, the executioner roared, and the crowd repeated his speech after him. In the next second, I felt him kick me to the wheels of the car and I fell again with my hands behind my back - I had no other choice. My wrists remained bound in iron chains weighing several tons.

“I will destroy you,” I spat, cursing him and all of them with my promise. - I'll be back. And I will make you all pay for what you did to me… To my family… To Mary…” My voice broke as I remembered her gentle laugh. - With Bastian.

The executioner gave me a sharp slap in the face that could have blown my head off.

You dare not speak the King's name.

I growled as I immediately got up from my knees. I couldn't... I have to stay strong. I must convey the truth to everyone.

Which he himself could not really understand.

Bastian died today.

“King – here I am,” I whispered more quietly, as if under my breath, and these were the last words that escaped my lips. People in uniform arrived at the executioner - the officers of Adinburgh. The sharp needle cut through my skin like a knife through melted butter. The narcotic substance intoxicated me, taking away all the physical pain without a trace.

My back didn't hurt.

The soul that mourned the eighteen years of my life was dying.

Happy life.

Falling to the floor of the iron cage, I heard the car door closing, and I understood only one thing:

The former me is no more. Ahead of me, nothing awaits me but darkness, eternal pain and the wanderings of a dehumanized soul.

Chapter 1

Kenna

They picked me up at dawn.

My nightgown, which was on my body at the time of their arrival, is almost the only thing I have left.

I do not know how many hours or days have passed, but I can say with certainty that we arrived at our destination in the dark.

I hardly saw anything in the pitch darkness. I was not up to looking at the picturesque night landscapes. All my strength went into yelling into the rag plugging my mouth and resisting the strong male hands that tightly grabbed my shoulders.

I don't know exactly how many men there were. Maybe five or seven. And they were all talking about some kind of mission for which they would receive a good reward and the praise of "His Highness" - as they put it.

- Shall we play with her before we throw her in the viper? I was carried in through a dark door, behind which a faint light glimmered. In the blink of an eye, I found myself in a narrow room of moldy brick walls. The atmosphere immediately reminded me of a medieval prison, and only modern lamps decorating the charred and dirty walls spoke of the fact that I had not moved in time. What I am is still me. And I am in our reality - in quite a modern world, which, lately, can hardly be called a "world".

It is more of a "land" of war, destruction and pain from which I have been isolated for many years.

I knew almost nothing about who I really was.

Life away from society protected me from the outside world and gave me a reward - oblivion, a peaceful existence without pain.

I knew that people in my country, as in other European countries, were suffering. The soldiers leave and do not return.

Wives are crying.

Children are left without fathers and mothers dying of hunger.

We are all under the yoke of a country that does not allow other European countries to exist in peace and harmony.

- I'd love to. She's too pretty to just vegetate here, don't you think? – someone's hand fell on my chest and roughly squeezed it. Glancing at the offender, I again squealed into the rag, dreaming of chewing through it, and then grabbing at his lousy throat.

“What boobs,” the second bastard remarked maliciously, I remember the gold teeth that adorned his disgusting smile.

- Remove your hands, let me touch this forest nymph who so successfully fell into our trap. Tears of humiliation welled up in my eyes as I felt their touch against my skin, frozen by the night air, again.

- The baby is cold. We'll warm her up quickly, won't we? - the cackle of one of these degenerates broke my hopes for salvation one by one. I could only cross my legs harder and tense my whole body - to create a kind of invisible cocoon that would hardly protect me from their vile and smelly paws.

But I could at least try.

– Nmm, nmm! Nmm! Mmm! - Only these ridiculous sounds escaped my lips when I screamed and tried to say: "Get off me, you bastards!".

- She also moans sweetly, just look. Do you know how many people like you we caught, beauty? And how many of them did we have? - the abomination of his whisper was comparable only to the sliding of a snake through the forest thicket. Everything inside me clenched into a ball when I finally realized that I had been caught.

I am completely alone.

Away from a place that, after all, she could call home.

Away from the person who was my friend and could protect me.

- Don't rock the boat, baby. Everything will be as fast as possible,” another whisper overcame me from behind. Behind this malevolent hiss came the sound of tearing cloth.

No. Just not this.

The hem of my nightgown was torn; the cold touched my thighs as well as the rough hands that clasped them.

– Nmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! - a cry of despair tore my chest, and I set my whole being in motion: I moved my arms and legs non-stop, realizing that this would only distract them for a while, but would not stop these scum who appropriated me like property.

“Damn, our nymph is dry,” one of them angrily remarked, running his finger between my legs. I winced in disgust and humiliation as I realized the act he had just performed.

And these were only flowers.

I was nothing to these men. A piece of flesh that was meant to satisfy their need.

But I also felt that they were nobody here.

There is something they brought me here for. To this place that I know nothing about.

To a place I've never really seen.

My sixth sense told me that it was very, very far from home. It is colder here, and there is a wind that literally touches and envelops your every bone.

It was raining outside the narrow corridor I was in. Not even like that: it was a heavy downpour, once again reminding me of the terrible weather in this place.

This has never happened in my area. For the most part, I enjoyed the sun and the azure water caressing my bare feet. I lived on the seashore with a beautiful view of the endless horizon, beyond which the ships disappeared.

It would sound nice if I didn't know that these ships were sent out to shed blood. For countries that will soon be gone.

None of this concerned me. Until this day.

- Burn in hell, creatures! - I miraculously managed to loosen the rag on myself and scream so hard that my voice echoed from the cramped walls and low ceilings.

- Silence, whore! - ordered the gold-tooth, desperately rubbing between my legs - I tensed so that the veins on my skin swelled. I didn't want to feel it.

She didn't want to think about it afterwards, bathing in her shame.

“You frigid creature,” he kept saying, making me sob even harder. If there was even a gram of digested food in my stomach, it would have flown out long ago. But I could only spit and choke on tears.

- We'll take you anyway. If we have to, we'll get out in the rain. Nymph…” The sound of my fly being unbuttoned made me squeal as if I was being cut.

They really cut me.

These bastards slowly cut me into pieces and laughed during the process.

- What's going on here? Gilbert, are you on your own again?! You… Have you completely lost your fear?! Release her immediately! Do what OH ordered you to do. Your task is to deliver the girls to the dungeon. They are not for your use. A bunch of undisciplined scum that we have to settle for while the best officers are on the frontier. The salutary speech sounded like music to me. I couldn't believe that the voice that said this was real.

But after a moment, the grip on me immediately loosened. They put me on my feet and led me deeper into the corridor - no longer touching me lustfully or greedily. They behaved like soldiers following an immutable order.

Whose?!

Yes, sir. All I ask is that this stay between us, sir. It won't happen again...

– It has ALREADY happened again. It won't stay between us. And if I were you, I wouldn't expect a pardon. He knows no mercy. Just don't say you forgot about it...

He knows no mercy.

These words were spoken in such a tone that, for a fraction of a second, seemed to me worse than gang rape.

“Damn you,” one of my offenders snorted, pushing me forward. Constantly on and on. Now I was silent, wearing a mask of indifference on my face.

Proudly raising my head, I walked forward, not intending to show them my despair anymore.

Your fear.

“Welcome to your new home,” said a voice that was new to me with a malevolent grin. On the face of its owner, a sincere pleasure was reflected, from which I winced. Never in my life have I come into contact with such sadism and undisguised human cruelty.

Yes, I knew that the countries were at war. But she was so far from it all.

Living on a farm in terrible conditions, I sometimes thought about how boring and monotonous my life is. But I also understood that many of those who suffer from constant rallies, revolutions and massacres dream of my everyday problems: eternal boredom, constant oppression of peers and endless cleaning of the house and farm.

Despite the routine of my everyday life… What is happening now is clearly not the adventure that I have dreamed of all my life. Finally, I met Gasper. And he was my main adventure.

My teeth involuntarily sank into my lower lip at the memory of the promise he made to me:

I will protect you wherever you are.

And where is he now? I bet he doesn't even know where I'm at. I don't even know where I am.

Prison? Underground tunnel? And who is "he"?

I fucking need to know the answers to all my questions, and if these bastards think I'm going to keep quiet, they're wrong.

- What other house? What kind of place is it? – We went further, going deeper into the thicket of

dark corridors. For a moment it seemed to me that I heard a heart-rending female cry, and I was numb.

The smiles on the faces of my companions only grew wider.

- Someone crazy. Or resisting,” one of them remarked, unambiguously

looking at the torn hem of my shirt. I hope you won't resist.

- Rob, you heard what Jace said. He is all will tell him. I don’t think that he will be happy …

– This is not his property! It's not even his people! And he doesn't care about these shabby girls. They are not here for that. – I already regretted that I could hear this conversation at all. Every word that escaped the lips of those bastards left behind questions without hope of answers.

- I don't think so. No one will turn down the good ones. This one is pretty,” Goldtooth purred affectionately, pushing me forward again. His hand slid down my cheek, leaving a nasty residue on my skin.

“Then it would be even better if we prepared her for the worst.” The screams, barely audible in the hallway, grew louder.

I didn't hear the words the girls said. But I knew for sure that I didn’t understand some of them at all - these were words spoken in another language.

“Come,” one of the men in a dark uniform opened in front of me an old wooden door with a small window in the form of a lattice. Someone's hands pushed me under the shoulder blades, and I found myself inside an ugly cave. Literally a centimeter from my feet ran a rat, and I suppressed a scream of horror that constricted my lungs.

This cannot be true.

- Let's go. Let’s leave her here and leave,” one of them ordered the others. I was pushed forward again, almost knocking me off my feet. Gritting my teeth, I tried not to utter another sound.

I just wished they were gone. Disappeared. I'd rather spend the night with rats, starve, not understand what's going on, than stand one more touch of these terrible people.

“Not so fast,” the gold-toothed still couldn’t leave me alone, licking his lips like a hungry dog. Jace is not here. You cover me. I want her.

“Come on, just quickly,” I heard to my shock as I immediately ran to the farthest corner of the dungeon.

- You won't touch me! Don't touch! I screamed, grabbing the damp walls with my fingers. I was amazed that I didn’t even cry - fear drowned out all my emotions, giving wildness and strength to fight this worm, which the tongue did not turn to call a man.

– Oh, no one can hear you here. I just want to spoil you, for your own good. You will be better off if you are worse than you are now. Then he won't even notice you. You will get lost in the crowd. And you will live, - with every word he came closer and closer to me, and I wanted to fall into the wall, which did not want to disperse behind me.

- Who is "he"? Where I am?! I want to know it! Who the hell are you?! - A sudden thought struck me with such force that it immediately flew off my lips: - You took me prisoner?

- You are smart. Are you all so smart and beautiful in France? he muttered again, pinning me in the corner. It was only after he said that phrase that I realized that he was speaking French with an accent.

No, no... I'm really far from home.

Cold, fog, wind that sucked my soul out of me…

- Am I... In England? I squeaked plaintively before feeling his hands all over my body. They felt like tentacles. Like bee stings attacking in one go.

- Mmm. It doesn't matter. You need to shut up, nymph. And help me a little…” Here the man licked his palm, leaving a wet mark on his fingers. His hand reached down to my legs, touching my inner thighs.

A desperate cry pierced my throat, but the offender did not let me move.

I'm not used to… defending myself. I have never been threatened by anything.

And now his fingers were rapidly making their way to the most intimate place on my body, and everything inside me protested, pushed him away and begged for salvation.

Gasper lied with his impudent promise to protect me.

They all lied to me…

My own life laughed at me twice: the first time was when I lost my memory when I was little. I just woke up near the farm - where I now lived. Deciding that I was from somewhere nearby, they tried to find my parents in a nearby village, but they were never found. So I ended up living there, with people who treated me like a servant. So they treated all the children who lived on the farm - adopted children.

Second time now. Adventures that I dreamed about, read in books or imagined in the evenings, seeing off sunsets. I dreamed about them even after Gaspard, the guardsman of France, appeared in my life. Tall, masculine and incredibly handsome. According to the description, he was ideally suited to the man I had been waiting for so long, and yet ... Appearance and beautiful speeches were not enough for me.

I didn't have enough of his care and look, which screamed with all its appearance that the guy loves me more than anything in the world.

I needed something more. Some kind of sign from above, and this dumb trembling from the heart, passing into the whole body.

“Gus…” I whispered quietly, thinking only about how comfortable it was in his arms. I wasn't a virgin. But to be used by this freak?! Or any other... No way.

- Who is this? Your friend, beauty? I will be much better than him...

I braced myself for the attack of his fingers, hands and lips on my body. I need to defend myself... I need to...

– What did I tell you?! A roar came from behind Goldtooth. Not for a second, a man whom I had already seen in the corridor saved me from the bullying of the rapist. I didn't even make eye contact with him - he didn't seem to be interested in me at all. He was more concerned about this bastard and the fact that he disobeyed someone's order.

“You will rot in Adinburgh for disobeying twice,” he said simply, pulling out the handcuffs from behind the skirts of his suit.

- No! NO! No... I'm sorry sir... It was a mistake... Just once... HE will forgive me! Forgive! Goldtooth whispered as I tried to catch my breath. It was a delight to watch his pitiful plea.

I didn't even believe that I could so revel in someone's misfortune. But after what they all did to me, I wanted them all to go to Adinburgh. Granted, I had no idea what that word meant. Judging by the tone of the leader's voice, this is a very, very bad place. Prison…?

But if I'm in this horrible prison, is there anything worse?

“He knows no mercy, ,” Jace repeated again, grabbing Goldtooth. Effectively hitting him on the head, he led the man out of my closet, slamming the door behind him.

The sound of the lock closing broke my heart into pieces.

I rushed to the window, clutching desperately at the cold, rusty bars.

- No, - all that escaped my lips. I still didn't understand why there wasn't a tear in me. There was no energy to scream.

From the outside, it looked like I was getting over my kidnapping very well. I didn't look crushed, scared, begging for salvation.

But only because I was so broken inside that I didn't have the strength to do anything.

And I have been broken for a very long time.

They just… Finished me off.

Chapter 2

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