Lyra froze in her bed as someone knocked on the door. For a moment, she feared it would be Nathan, or another of the sickos responsible for keeping her here. Her worries were dispelled when she heard her visitor's voice. Stasya. 

She wiped at her eyes with her blankets and propped herself up with her elbows, pulling taut the restraints connecting her to the bed. "Stasya!" she said warily, "They took you away! I was worried." She bit her lip at the lie. In truth, she'd had no time to spare worrying about anyone other than herself. She was a coward to the core.

"What happened to you?" she asked as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She was a mess. "They took you away, then they took the rest of us, and he locked me up here and gave me a letter and..." She hesitated midsentence, vaguely aware that the other girl wouldn't understand a word she said. But she had to talk to someone. If she kept it bottled up inside, it would only get worse.

"My parents... they betrayed me. Sold me to this place. They're probably among the investors who paid for us to be kidnapped. I hate them! Because of them, there's no point in running... no one loves me... I should lie in this bed and refuse to eat until I die! I..." She trailed off as she dissolved into outright sobbing. Helpless. Unwanted. Worthless. Crippled. What was the point in going on?