Evelina's senses returned sluggishly, as though she were surfacing from deep water. Her head pounded, and her body felt heavy—wrong somehow, like it didn't belong to her.
She blinked against the harsh light above, the fragmented patches of sky peering through a jagged opening. The air was damp, carrying the scent of earth and decay.
Her eyes roved upward.
The sky seemed distant, impossibly far, as if she were trapped in a pit. The realization sent a jolt of panic through her, but when she tried to move, her limbs wouldn't obey. Her fingers twitched faintly, but her arms and legs remained numb.
Fear clawed at her as her breathing quickened.
What's happening?
She tried turning her head a bit, but the movement was sluggish and exhausting. When she finally did, she noticed insects moving on the wet ground next to her. A big beetle hurried past her face, causing her to feel a quick jolt of fear, but she couldn't pull away.
