Zara's POV
Slowly, I help Ana to her feet, supporting her as I lead her into her own house, the small living space sparsely decorated. I lower her into one of the chairs before moving through an archway to a kitchen where a quick search finds a glass that I fill with water.
Returning to the shaking woman, I hand her the drink that she accepts gratefully, taking a sip before placing it on the worn coffee table in front of her.
Sinking down onto the edge of the couch at a right angle to her chair, I lean my arms on my knees as she stares into space.
‘Gael’ she mutters, ‘he’s alive, oh God, I prayed! After he was taken, I prayed every night. My sister, she searched for him, went to places that were not safe. I tried to tell her not to, but that was her child! She would not give up, not st
