ZARA POV
The heavy, wooden door creaked open, casting a sliver of moonlight across the cold, damp floor. It was nearly four in the morning, an eternity since I had last seen Sonja. A wave of relief washed over me as I saw the guard, slumped over on the ground, his head lolling limply. The sleeping draught had worked.
The cell was tiny, barely large enough for a cot and a small, wooden table. The walls were bare and cold, and the only sound was the distant hum of the prison generators. I had been confined to this miserable place for what felt like an age, my mind consumed by thoughts of escape and the one person I couldn't stop thinking about.
She twirled the key between her fingers, a nervous habit.
"Paul and the others are on a mission down south. We should head to the North River and
