Nora’s POV.
I could hear it – those heavy footsteps of his. They were distinct and I could identify them among thousands of footsteps.
“Why is he coming to see me now? Is it time for me to die now?” I thought, dragging my weak body up from the floor where I had lain.
Each of his footsteps created a terror within me. It seemed like as each day passed in that dungeon I was locked in, my rebellion slowly diminished – replaced by the fear I once had for him.
I saw his shadow slowly approaching, stretching across the hallway like a warning.
The closer he neared, the more the memories I had tried so hard to bury rushed to me – the first time I held a gun, the day he made me kill my mother, the time he laughed while I cried and the day, he made me choose between love and my loyalty
