Maya clung to Chon; her heart heavy. It had been for him, for Chon, but the pain was so intense, it felt like she might die at any moment.
“The boy isn't going.” said Wikly, his voice cold and relentless.
“Please! Let me take him with me.” Maya pleaded, desperate.
She didn't know how else to ask or what to do. She had already begged the man to whom Wikly had given the g*n that belonged to Anésio, but she got nothing. Now, with Chon in her arms, she couldn't just leave him on the hangar floor and walk away.
“Let me make a call, just one call, at least to a friend.” She pleaded. Wikly looked at her, pondering.
“If your friend causes a scene, we'll take off with the boy and throw him out the window.”
Maya made a call to Anastácia, telling her where she was and that she urgently needed
