Over the last few days, Cara's world had narrowed to the burning ache in her back and shoulders and the clink of stone on metal as she attempted to work a rusting staple loose from its mooring. The chain it secured to the floor would make an adequate weapon if she could get it free.

The oubliette itself didn't overly bother her. The lack of rats and other vermin, and the steady supply of clean air already put it above some of the places she'd been, even if she could have done with better lighting. As for the voices...she stopped being a terrified child who'd blindly believe the words of her captors a long time ago, regardless of if they echoed her own feelings.

Besides, you didn't spend that much effort telling someone you didn't want them and were done with them unless the opposite was true.

And if she was wrong and they were expected to die down here...she'd do what had to be done, for the others then herself.