Mary's POV The door slipped open again and two of my father’s guards walked in. Without saying a word, one of them untied the ropes from my wrists, and my arms felt weak and sore. Then they pulled me to my feet and started leading me out of the room. "Where are you taking me?" I asked with my voice shaky. They did not answer; they just kept walking me down a dark hallway until we reached another door. One of the guards opened it and pushed me inside. The room was small. It had no windows and there, in the corner, my daughter was sitting on a small mattress on the floor. "Layla!" I cried and ran to her. He looked up with her little face red and wet from crying, she had her knees pulled up to her chest. "Mummy!" he sobbed, jumped up, and ran into my arms. I held her tight, so tight as if she was going to disappear if I didn’t. I ran a kiss on her hair, her face, her hands, and I couldn't stop touching her. I had never been more frightened in my life. "I was so scared," she
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