Andrew's entire body ached with pain as he was dragged across the gravel outside the police station. His feet scraped against the sharp edges of broken stones and dry sticks. Every step felt like knives were slicing into his skin. Blood smeared from his toes as he tried to resist, but the two police officers gripping his arms were merciless. Their boots thudded heavily on the pavement while he stumbled between them, too weak to fight back. The weight of betrayal, the shock of Frank’s return, and the haunting image of Cynthia being dragged away burned behind his eyes like fire.He tried to lift his head but the sunlight was sharp, stabbing into his vision and forcing him to squint. Through blurry eyes, he saw the heavy metal doors of the station swing open as they approached. Inside, the air was thick and dry. The reception area had a dead silence, except for the slow ticking of a dusty wall clock and the sound of a fan rotating above.Without a word, the officers shoved Andrew into th

Three weeks later.Three weeks had passed since Andrew was locked away in that sterile, suffocating cell. He’d lost count of the days; the passage of time had become nothing but a blur. The only thing that gnawed at him in that unrelenting void of isolation was the unanswered question that never left his mind: Where on earth is Cynthia? What had Frank done to her?Andrew’s stomach churned at the thought of her being in the hands of that monster. Every inch of his body yearned for the sight of her—her smile, her voice, the feeling of safety she once provided. But in the stillness of his cell, there was only silence. There was nothing but the sound of his own breath and the hollow echo of his thoughts.His body was bruised from the harsh conditions of his confinement. The rough walls of the cell felt like they were closing in on him with each passing hour. The tiny barred window allowed just enough light to create the illusion of day and night, but nothing more. And yet, through it all,

The room held its breath.Heavy silence wrapped around the courtroom like a cold blanket, muffling the sound of whispers, coughs, and even the tapping of impatient fingers on polished wooden benches. People filled every seat, their eyes fixated on the chained young man standing in the center of it all. His wrists were bruised and bound, his once-sharp suit now wrinkled and dirtied from nights spent in a cold, unforgiving cell. Andrew stood still, the same way a soldier might stand when surrounded on all sides by enemy fire, and yet refusing to fall. His heart pounded within his chest, his ears drumming with the rhythm of his own pulse as he stared straight ahead, barely blinking.He had survived battles. He had survived betrayal. He had survived fire and blood and the long darkness of servitude. But nothing in all his years prepared him for this moment.Then he gazed at her.Cynthia.The moment she stepped into the light, everything else fell away. Her face was soft, almost angelic, f