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CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

PETRA'S POV

My eyes slit open gradually as I struggled to get accustomed to the environment for the umpteenth time. I have been held captive for three days straight and I was practically drained of every form of strength.

The air was thick and suffocating and the room was dimly lit. The silver shackles on my hands and legs sizzled and burned my flesh. If I was going to survive my irrevocable predicament, the scars were going to be ever present for life. My back hurts so bad because of the punishment meted to me by the whip. The mixture of blood and body fluid matted to my cotton cloth escalated the pain anytime I tried to move.

I remembered penning down a letter to godfather before I thought of fleeing, three days had passed like eternity and there was no response up till now. I told him in the letter that I had been compromised and I needed help to get myself out of the mess.

Here and here, realization dawned on me. It dawned heavily on me like the morning sun and the weight of my su
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