Amber heard Jameson clearly but felt torn between her mind and body. She couldn't utter a response.

"Go. Now," Jameson urged, his gaze turning icy.

A shiver wracked Amber as she rose, her dress clinging uncomfortably to her cold sweat. She was alive, but she felt as if she had died over and over again.

She walked toward Wesley; a few steps felt like a lifetime.

Wesley's hands were bound, so he used his head to prop himself up. He swayed as he kneeled before her.

He had known he would die the moment he was captured. However, he wasn't resigned to a meaningless death; he wanted to die with dignity.

Carl approached and took Amber's cold hand, placing a gun in it and forcing her fingers to grip the handle. Despite the blood covering his face, Wesley offered her a wan smile, a gesture meant to comfort Amber.

Tears welled in Amber's eyes as she squeezed them shut. The dank basement was a slaughterhouse.

She opened her eyes again.

eye. No one else would have noticed, but Amber saw his right eye blinking in a

Amber-Wesley

trembling fingertips against her side, matching the rhythm of Wesley's blinks, committing his

Don't keep Mr. Schmidt waiting." Carl looked at her

heavily, on the verge of

Wesley suddenly got up from the ground and pushed Amber aside with

underlings were professionally trained. They shouldn't have been this slow to react-including Carl. They had

were bloodshot as he

Schmidt!" Everyone panicked and was unsure

he aimed his gun at Wesley's back and fired

it in anymore. Tears streamed down

The basement fell silent.

who was on Jameson, eventually

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