The road was bumpy and the car kept rocking from side to side. Joyce felt as if she was being taken into the mountains.

The sound of tires bursting over gravel, mixed with the whistling wind, echoed in the ears. The container was pitch black, and she couldn't see a thing. She didn't know exactly where she was being taken.

Her hands were tied behind her back, and her feet were tied. Luckily they didn't search her, and she could feel that the pistol she carried on her belt was still there. Unfortunately, she couldn't move.

She moved around the container with difficulty, groping around with her hands tied behind her back, looking for anything she could use.

Little by little, inch by inch, she moved along and did not miss any corner of the carriage.

"Hiss." Suddenly she was stung and instinctively retracted her hand. It felt as if she had cut her finger somehow, and it felt sticky, like it was bleeding.

Her eyes lit up and she hurriedly searched for the thing that had just cut her finger, and she carefully felt around for it.

The way she felt it, it should be a piece of glass. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels

piece in her hand and moved her body to

getting bumpier and bumpier; apparently they had got into the mountains where there were no roads. Several shakes threw her up and down in the carriage, and she struggled several times to get up, finally sitting close to the corner to keep herself

her hands, which were tied behind her back, kept grinding

was so focused that she was soaked with sweat, her hair wet on her forehead and

efforts to cut one from the strand, but unfortunately the rope

looked like she

to lean on the wall of the container and close

not know how long it took, but

was startled and hastily cupped the glass piece in her hand and hid it, so that it could not be

it appeared that someone was approaching the car

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