Synopsis
Felix had the same nightmare again and again. He was back in the interrogation room. Hands tied behind his back in heavy fetters. Feet chained to an iron chair. Thin cloth robe drenched. Barefoot on the stone floor in the cold and damp. Wounds on his knees sutured shut but burning through to the bone. Marks on his thighs and back so swollen he had to stretch his shoulders and stand on his toes to minimize contact with the chair. Someones was talking outside the door. He caught fragments — numbers, the ones they gave him when he was thrown…
