EVA LEVESQUE
“Dad?”
My hands held on to the cold metal of the jail bars as I squinted my eyes at the man in front of me. He was in a worse shape than I was. He was covered in cuts and bruises, his lips were bleeding and his right eye was swollen and bruised.
I choked back a cry as my hands around the railings tightened. I mustered up the courage and called out to him.
“Dad,” my voice faltered. I was able to breath when he started moving, he’s alive. My dad’s alive.
“Daddy!” I called, he slightly opened my eyes and looked around for the source.
“Eva?” his voice was raspy and hoarse as if he was dehydrated. His lips were pale and dry and he didn’t even have the energy to get up. For how long was he down here? Please don’t tell me that he was imprisoned here ever since Tita Eilee
