Thin pale pink satin slip.
Brighton Town, Holding Pen.
June 7, 2088; Afternoon.
A tiny wave of relief washed over Francie when she saw the entrance to Brighton even though she knew she still wasn't safe. Her body was so sore, so tired and her wounds were beginning to bleed again. She let out a tiny groan of discomfort, but still she pressed on. She had to keep moving. There was no turning back. Everything was hazy, blurry. She shook her head trying to focus. "Stay awake, Francie... don't give up..." she whispered to herself, trying to push herself just a bit more.
(Exits to The Roads/The Outside)