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.

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

hurriedly hid the glass piece in her hand and moved

and down in the carriage, and she struggled several times to get up, finally sitting close to the corner to keep

were tied behind her back, kept grinding

very tightly, and she could not really move all that much. She was so focused that she was soaked with sweat, her hair wet on her forehead and cheeks, and she kept grinding the rope with

to cut one from the strand,

looked like she would need

breath, her arms were so sore they were numb. She had no choice but to lean on the wall of the container and close her eyes to rest for a

long it took, but the car seemed to

and hastily cupped the glass piece in her hand and hid it, so that it

appeared that someone was approaching the car

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