David and Sarah drove in silence through the dark streets of Maracaibo, Carolina slumped in the back seat between them. Her head rested against David’s shoulder, eyes half-closed, breathing shallow but steady. She was lighter than he remembered, bones pressing through thin skin. The white gown she wore was filthy, torn at the hem, stained with dirt and old blood. Bare feet, bruised and cut. She smelled of sweat and despair.
Sarah glanced in the rearview mirror. “She needs food and water. A doctor if possible. But we can’t risk a hospital yet.”
David nodded. “Another hotel. Low profile. He paid in cash only.”
They chose a small place on the outskirts which is two stories, peeling paint, no security cameras. David paid for two adjoining rooms in cash, using a different alias. The clerk ba
