Chapter 40 The Mask Man

I open my eyes. Darkness surrounds me. There’s a dull ache at the back of my head, and then—suddenly—images from minutes, perhaps hours ago, come splintering into my mind like a lightning bolt, the kind that leaves me wincing in pain. When I try to twist my arms, the clank of chains fills the room. Pain follows, sharp and biting, as the shackles dig into my wrists the more I pull. For the first time since waking, I struggle to look upward. My hands are restrained with chains—the kind used to hold down ruthless dogs.