Dawn
“Lee,” I nudge him as the door opens.
He returned last night in worse shape than the time before and he hasn"t moved since. I can barely muster the strength to turn and see who has entered our prison. I assume it"s the slave, Boone. His face isn"t the one that greets me, however.
I squint as my eyes adjust to the light from a lantern and I see her. A woman hurries toward me, her long, dark curls whipping about her shoulders. Boone enters behind her.
“I"m here to make sure they eat,” he says.
The two of them share a look and wait for the door to close behind them.
“I can"t get you very long,” a voice says.
I recognize it as that of Marco Moreno.
“Thank you brother,” the woman says before the door groans shut.
Brother?
My eyes widen as I stare into the face of none other than
