MacKenzie’s return to consciousness was marred by a bitter taste in her mouth and a drowsy confusion. Overwhelmed by an intense thirst and a wave of nausea, she struggled to orient herself. She lay in a cramped, confining space. Panic surged as she tried to move, her feet pressing futilely against an unyielding barrier. She reached out, her fingers brushing against smooth satin. Behind her, a wall. Was this a coffin?
