The bumps in the dirt road were transmitted directly into Fiona's prone body as she lay on her side in the cart. With her hands and feet bound, she could only lie there, unable to even look at the scenery as the horses pulled the cart up the winding mountain road. It was only yesterday that Fiona celebrated her eighteenth birthday. Everyone in the village gave her a present, happy smiles on their lined and weather-beaten faces. It was a rare moment of joy, as the recent poor harvests and dusty,
A Place to Belong
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