Carmella|
The rhythmic sound of my bare feet meeting the cold concrete floor was the only noise in the otherwise suffocating silence of the cell. Each step, each stretch, each squat—it was all deliberate, a means of staying sharp, of keeping my body and mind from succumbing to the despair of captivity. The cell offered more than enough space to move, and I used every inch of it, refusing to falter.
I paused mid-squat as the smart glass wall flickered with sudden movement. My heart leaped into a sprint. For a moment, I braced myself, expecting Marcus and his insufferable smirk to materialize on the other side, basking in his flair for dramatics.
But it wasn’t Marcus.
It was…Martha.
She stood just beyond the glass, and my stomach dropped at the sight of her. Pale, streaked with
