Bethany..
Bethany heard the noise before she saw some of the men dragging a new woman down the stairs. The woman looked out of it; her leggings were ripped, her hair was messy with leaves clinging to it, and her clothes were covered in dirt like she’d rolled in it. Yet she still had the spunk to try to fight back. Unfortunately, a wet spot on the back of her head indicated she’d probably been abused just as badly as the rest of the women. Or, in particular at least, as Bethany tended to be for her antics. Everyone went quiet as they watched the slavers lock the girl in an empty cell beside Bethany. Except for the woman’s moaning, she didn’t move while the slavers left, and Bethan watched her critically for a few minutes as the women around them began to chatter.
“Hey new girl, you ok? He
