Emma's POV
It had been days. Weeks, maybe. Time had lost all meaning in this place—this wretched prison masquerading as a household.
The walls seemed to close in on her with each passing hour, the stench of captivity clinging to every inch of her skin.
Emma could barely remember what it felt like to be free, to feel the warmth of the sun or the wind on her face.
The darkness had become her constant companion, settling deep within her bones, and the cold, unforgiving floor was now her bed.
She shifted, wincing as the ache in her body sharpened, the pain of her ordeal weighing heavily on her back.
Her arms, legs, every part of her body screamed for relief, but there was none to be found.
She slowly pressed her back against the wall, feeling the rough stone scrape against her torn
