Chapter 207

Laurel sat on the cold, concrete floor of her cell, her back pressed against the rough wall. The dim light that flickered weakly from the bulb above cast eerie shadows across the small, claustrophobic space.

It was night, though the darkness in this place never truly lifted, not even during the day. Time had lost its meaning here, the hours blending together into an endless gray haze.

The stench of damp and mildew hung in the air, mixing with the pungent odor of unwashed bodies and the faint, sour scent of despair.

The thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders did little to ward off the chill that seemed to seep up from the very bones of the building. Laurel’s fingers were numb from the cold, and she clenched them into fists, trying to bring some warmth back to her hands.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, a slow, deliberate march that sent a shiver down her spine. She tensed, her breath catching in her throat.

The guards here were not known for their kindness. They wi