"We are left alone again, imprisoned by this impossible choice and its weight presses upon me now more than ever."
Days run together in a haze of dark depression.
The chill, wet air rises up from the dungeon, filling our bones, and constantly reminds us that we are imprisoned.
Every moment seems like a fight to cling on to that little hope.
But despite all, I find myself awaiting Abigail's visits with a mind set to expect little or no warmth, yet still hoping something may penetrate that wall she has thrown up around herself.
The next time she comes, she lingers by the door longer than she usually does, hesitates a second before stepping into the dim light.
I see it in her eyes now, something flickering inside that wasn't there before.
Is it a doubt? Or regret? I cannot tell, but e
