I feel nauseous.
My head is pounding and when I try to open my eyes, they stick together from my dried tears. It takes me a minute to blink them open and make the world less blurry.
I wish I could say that I don't know where I am or that I don't even remember what happened. But the memory of Malachi gasping as Caspian stabbed him in the back will forever be scarred into my brain.
My hands are tied together with some sort of blue fabric and when I glance over at Caspian there is dried blood still on his hands as he drives, what I don't even have to ask, is a stolen car.
"I'm gonna be sick," I mumble, getting dizzy just lifting my head but before I can say more, I lean forward and dry heave, my stomach revolting against me.
I try not to think too hard on why nothing comes up, just f
