Syria’s POV
We walked all the way down, to the very lowest part of the estate. Lower than the chamber where Novene had been punished. With every step I took, my heart pounded faster. My muscles were trembling. I couldn’t stop the shaking. And deep inside, I knew once I saw what they had done to my grandmother, I would lose it.
“We’re here,” she said, her voice low, almost hesitant.
But I barely heard her. I was already frozen in place.
When we stopped in front of the narrow corridor, my breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. From where I stood, I saw her. My grandmother. She was locked up in a cramped, narrow room. I could see her through the glass window. The panel was tinted, but not enough to fully block her from view. It was designed so that we could see
