Atticus approached Aurora, who was wailing on the floor. He bent down to her level and gently raised her chin, gazing directly into her red, puffy eyes.
Her face was soaked with tears, mucus coming out of her nose, and her eyes were swollen. Atticus gave her his warmest smile, a smile filled with reassurance, but it only seemed to make Aurora cry even harder.
Her sobs racked her fragile frame as she clung to him, her tiny hands gripping his clothes, soaking them with her tears.
Atticus didn't utter a word; instead, he offered silent solace through his embrace. He held her close, patting her head in a tender and reassuring manner.
In that secluded alleyway, the only sounds that resonated were the heart-wrenching sobs of a young girl, a testament to the hell Aurora had endured for far too long.
