Dahlia's eyes fluttered weakly as she tried to focus, her hair hanging low, obscuring her face.
While my mind was still stuck on what my mother had said earlier, Dahlia had already stirred awake. She groaned, her voice hoarse as it spilled from her dry, cracked lips. Slowly, when her head moved along with the rest of her body, she weakly cried out in pain.
The silver chains still dug into her body, after all, and the burns were only getting worse. As she moved, the silver did too, allowing the chains to touch different parts of her skin, opening old ones and searing new ones into her flesh.
When her eyes finally opened completely, they widened even further when she caught sight of me. She immediately began to frantically try to squirm her way out, the smell of burning flesh filling the room as I winced, taking a step back. If not for the gag in her mouth, Dahlia would no doubt be screaming expletives as though there was no tomorrow.
