Her eye narrowed and I saw her swallow a couple times. “Marek Baranov, fourth son of Ivano Baranov.” The voice was a croak, but it didn’t seem like it pained her to speak. I did notice her eye flit towards the water next to the bed.I was about to tell her to take a drink when I remembered that both her wrists were dislocated and one of her hands were broken. Normally, an interrogation would be best if the person wasn’t comfortable, but I needed her to speak more than just a few words. Striding over the edge of the bed, I grabbed the glass of water and leaned forward, tipping it slowly against her lips. For the first time, emotion crossed her face; surprise. However, it was gone as quickly as it came. She took small sips of the water until about half the glass was gone.Stepping back, I placed the glass on the table, her eye following my every move. She’s waiting for me to strike her down, I realized, but I didn’t let the disgust show on my face.“Who are you?”Her lips parted for a m
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