Sometimes she would try to flee a dozen times a day, but the man's torment was like a cat toying with a mouse, watching her

struggle just for amusement.

So, the initial dozen attempts dwindled to seven or eight, then to five or six, and eventually to twice a day.

Now, it had been a whole year since she last thought about escaping from this place, which was exactly what the man intended.

Cynthia listened to the man's voice, ignoring him.

But he continued, "Don't you want to know where your daughter is?"

At these words, Cynthia's eyelashes fluttered.

Her hand, which had been hanging by her side, twitched, and her gaze shifted to a fixed point.

The man's voice echoed in her head as if it were emanating from deep within her bones.

"Where is she?"

These days, she had only spoken one word, and that was the curt "Scram" she had told lan's man.

Her voice was very hoarse.

"She cto see you, tried to take you with her, but she's in over her head."

Cynthia's eyes were downcast, and it took a long tfor her to compromise, "Please let her be."

she spoke, the entire basement fell silent, as if

fingertips paused on the screen,

kept her

leaned back,

for whether he would let the daughter

for almost an hour, and

first thing she did

in his arms and used the corner of his shirt

"Does it hurt?"

just tilted

stopped in his tracks, his

"Are you blaming me?"

"No."

our baby in harm's way. I'll

this, he strode

smelled the scent of

that lan must have done

She just felt heavy-hearted.

who, no matter what happened, would hold

face, and speak softly.

the messages she conveyed were

greatly

how could she have grown up safely after Lillian had

"lan, where is this?"

person from Forbidden Island toldabout it. Dylan and

I'm not confident I can keep you

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