Above the chilly concrete walls, the weak light fluttered creating long, fluctuating shadows. Emily could still feel the traces of the dread racing through her veins, the anxiety she had seized as Ava shot Daniel, knocking him out. His lifeless body dropped next to her; his face was pallid and motionless. The only signs he was alive were the slow, shallow rise and fall of his chest.
Her wrists throbbed from the harsh ropes tying her hands behind her, but the boiling anger growing within her took precedence over the discomfort. Ava's treachery went deeper than anything Emily had ever dreamed. Lying the whole time, the lady she had trusted—the one who had gone to her in desperation—pleading for help—had been lying. Ava had planned all of this, guiding them into a trap they had never seen a
