I had stopped counting how long I had been here. The room had become my entire world, the bed I refused to find comfort in, the barred windows that mocked my attempts to escape, the locked door that sealed my fate. My body was failing me faster than my will. The hunger strike had taken its toll. My limbs felt heavy, my head light, and every movement sent the room spinning. I drank water from the tap when Damien wasn’t watching, but it wasn’t enough. My lips were cracked, my throat dry, and the constant weakness made it hard to even sit up for long.
I held onto one fragile thread of hope, Sofia. She would be looking for me. She would tear the city apart if she had to. I clung to that thought, whispering it to myself in the quiet hours when Damien wasn’t in the room. She’ll find me. She has
