On tiptoe, he made his way toward me with his index finger not shifting from his mouth.
"It's me, " he whispered, holding his breath. He slowly removed his mask, revealing his face.
"Re…Reno," my lips trembled, mentioning his name, the one whose arrival, a few minutes ago, I wondered. "How…how could you…?"
"Ssttt…don't make a noise otherwise they will hear you." In a murmur, he warned me. Obedient to his order, I locked my mouth.
He carefully untied my wrists and ankles. In a few seconds, I gained my freedom from the rope; while observing my reddened wrists, I blew the pain on them.
Through the corner of my eyes, I could spot that he secretly watched me grimacing at the ache I felt in my hands with sympathy. He demonstrated none of the verbal reaction; it was merely his gloomy eyes
