laughing at me silently, I can tell.

I decide the torture isn’t worth it. “May I return to my prison, please?”

She actually snorts in reply. “Stay here, Madison, and eat your food. It isn’t poisoned. You’re not in prison—we’re keeping you safe. We know you have information that could help us restore peace to the whole world. You just have to trust us a little! We can work together. Come now, just eat for your strength. Then you can go and have a good night’s sleep.”

In the depths of my gut, I’m about 99% sure the food has something in it that’s going to influence how I think. I was born hard-headed, and for once, that’s helping me.

I fold my napkin and place it on my plate, then stand up. “Dillon, take me to my p...

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