The light barely seeped into my cell. It was always like this—the shadows lurking, waiting, stretching out their hands for me. I’d become so accustomed to the dimness that when the door opened, and the torchlight from the hall spilled in, it felt like needles piercing my eyes. My body tensed on instinct, every muscle screaming at me to brace for what was coming next.
They were back.
I hadn’t healed. Couldn’t heal. Not fast enough to make a difference. Every bruise, every crack in my bones, every burn from the last round was still fresh, still tearing at me. But I held on. I had to. I couldn’t give in, couldn’t break. Not for them. Not for anyone. If I broke, they’d turn their eyes to Tim and Sarah. I wouldn’t let that happen.
Two guards came in this time, dragging the same one as before
