23: Interrogation
The room swallowed her whole. Cherish sat at the cold metal table, her palms damp against its surface, the buzz of the flickering bulb above drilling into her skull. The walls were plain, bare, suffocating. There was nowhere to hide—not even from herself. She drew her knees together, trying to steady her trembling. Her reflection stared faintly back at her in the dull sheen of the tabletop—pale face, streaks of dirt and blood across her cheeks, eyes wide and hollow. She barely recognized herself anymore. The door creaked open. The captain stepped in, closing it with a soft but deliberate thud. He set a folder down on the table and slid into the chair opposite her. His movements were slow, controlled, as though he wanted her to feel every second stretch out like a noose tightening. “Che
- Writer
