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Several thuds sound on the carpet, and I open my eyes to see one of the men tossing contents from my purse onto the ground. He opens my billfold and pulls out my new license, handing it over to Manic-eyes after studying it.
Manic-eyes holds it in front of his face, studying the fake the same way Colter had the other day. “Funny. I could have sworn your name was AbigailPriorjust yesterday.”
I groan against the hand, pleading with him. I attempt to convey that this is all a misunderstanding, I didn’t go to the press, I wasn’t trying to mess up whatever they have going for them. But all my words are swallowed up, and Manic-eyes tsks.
“You’ll have plenty of time for talking later, Abigail.” He says my name like it’s bitter on his tongue. “For now, you’re going to be quiet.”
He nods to the man holding me, and a sharp sting pierces my neck.
My hands jerk as I try to touch the burn, but my body goes lax a fraction of a second later, and all restraint leaves me as I fall to the floor.
I’m out before I hit the carpet.