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,

on the screen, his face filled

kept her

nothing, just leaned back,

let the daughter

for almost an hour, and during that time, Maja woke

did upon

used the corner of his shirt to wipe

"Does it hurt?"

didn't speak, just tilted her

stopped in his tracks, his tone

"Are you blaming me?"

"No."

and our baby in harm's way. I'll

saying this,

of blood and gunpowder

that lan

She just felt heavy-hearted.

someone strong and gentle, who, no

face, and speak softly.

the messages she conveyed were always

was greatly influenced by

grown up safely after Lillian had been gone for so many

"lan, where is this?"

toldabout it. Dylan and

a battleground. I'm not confident

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