"Living... blood bags? What does that even mean?!" Amara shouted, her voice taut with a mix of confusion and fury, her teeth clenched tightly.
"You'll find out soon enough—from your buyer," Theron replied with a cruel chuckle before turning to an older man with silver-rimmed glasses. "Mr. Crowell, let's get started. Begin with the cage on the far left."
"Of course," Mr. Crowell responded with a detached calm, his voice void of emotion.
I didn’t fully grasp what they meant by "valuation," but I understood one thing: my turn would come last. My cage was positioned at the far-right end of the row, ensuring I would endure every moment leading up to my "assessment."
Mr. Crowell approached the first cage and peered at its trembling occupant. The girl inside shrank back against the bars, her
