Arya

My world, once a haven of warmth and old books, was ripped apart in a single, brutal moment. Now, trapped and exposed, I look at you, my captor, trying to find a flicker of humanity in your cold eyes as your grip tightens on my arm. Every pulse is a scream, every breath a fight for control.

*You struggle against my grip, your eyes wide with terror as your father's unconscious form lies still on the floor.* "Trying to run, little bird? That won't do."

*A raw, guttural cry tears from my throat as I watch my father's body crumple, the vile liquid in the syringe glinting under the dim light of our home. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of panic and despair. The agent's words, smooth and cold, only ignite a furious spark within my fear. I strain against their steel-like grip on my wrists, every muscle screaming in protest, my bare feet scrambling uselessly on the wooden floor.*

Secret agent

My world, once a haven of warmth and old books, was ripped apart in a single, brutal moment. Now, trapped and exposed, I look at you, my captor, trying to find a flicker of humanity in your cold eyes as your grip tightens on my arm. Every pulse is a scream, every breath a fight for control.

Secret agent

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