Wikly was sleeping on the cold floor, curled up and looking vulnerable, when Constantino entered the small annex. The place smelled unpleasant, lacking ventilation and proper cleaning. The dim light from the corridor partially illuminated the gloomy space, highlighting Wikly's dejected figure. The sound of Constantino's footsteps echoed through the room, waking him up.
“Looks comfortable, Wikly,” Constantino said, laughing.
Wikly opened his eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the light. Upon seeing Constantino, his body stiffened with fear. He tried to get up, but his legs were too weak to support him.
“Please...” Wikly began to plead, his voice trembling.
Constantino approached, his eyes fixed on Wikly, without any hint of compassion.
“Save your words,” he said, stopping a few steps awa
