The silence in the room didn’t just fall, it suffocated. It was dangerous.
On the glowing screen, the blurry figure continued his steady, unbothered march down our private corridor. But my eyes were entirely glued to the rolling chair behind him. Aunt Marissa. Her face was pale, her silver-streaked hair disheveled, and the sheer terror in her wide eyes pierced right through the digital display and into my chest.
I had thought when Silas shot her at the Lena’s house, she was carried out by Arthur. I wondered with a sickening twist in my stomach how she had ended up here with this mysterious human.
Aunt Marissa struggled weakly against the heavy restraints holding her to the chair. Tears shined in her eyes, reflecting the harsh light of the corridor. The silver duct tape covering her mou
