Chloe’s pov
The heavy oak door slammed shut behind us, the iron latch dropping into place with a sharp, final clack.
The holding cell was damp, cold, and dark, lit only by a single flickering torch mounted in the stone corridor outside our bars. The stench of wet mold, rot, and stale blood hung thick in the air.
Lisa sat huddled on the thin straw mat in the far corner, her gray hair tangled around her pale, bruised face. Her shoulders shook with quiet, helpless sobs, her frail hands trembling in her lap.
I walked over immediately, dropping to my knees on the cold stone floorboards beside her.
I took her frail hands in mine, rubbing her cold knuckles to bring back some warmth. "Lisa... look at me. It's over. He's gone."
Lisa lifted her head, tears streaming over her wrinkled cheeks, h
