The room was dark. Not just night-time dark—but heavy, suffocating darkness that swallowed everything. There were no windows, no cracks for light to slip in. The walls were cold and rough, and the air smelled of mold, urine, and damp rot. The floor was sticky. Rats squeaked somewhere nearby. Allison lay curled on the hard ground, her arms wrapped around herself, trembling. Her clothes were torn and soiled. Her lips were cracked from thirst. Her stomach had stopped growling hours ago—it was now a deep, hollow pain. Ruby had made sure to break her in every way possible. Beatings, starvation, harsh words. Sometimes silence. Other times loud screams. It was a place built to make someone lose their mind. Yet, somehow, Allison hadn’t broken completely. Bruised, yes. Starved, certainly. But there was still a flicker of pride burning in her chest. She had stopped begging. She hadn’t told them what they wanted to hear. She was still alive.And for her, that meant something. She wasn’t fre
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