The room was dim and damp, its air heavy with the scent of rust and mildew. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering on and off like it, too, was unsure whether to hold on or give up. Amara sat on the thin mat in the corner of the room, her back pressed against the cold cement wall. Beside her, Sera leaned gently against her side, head resting on Amara’s arm. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her breathing was soft and shallow, the kind of quiet that came with exhaustion and fear.
They’d been moved again.
Amara’s wrists still bore the faint red marks from the last restraints. Though they were untied now, the psychological weight of being bound still clung to her skin like a second layer.
The new location wasn’t far—she could tell by how little time it took during transport—but it wa
