The air reeked of disinfectant and despair, a constant reminder of her confinement. The scent of stale sweat and tears clung to her battered body. Each ragged breath echoed through the cell, a testament to her suffering.
Her inmates' relentless attacks had left her body a canvas of bruises and scars. It was a reoccurring event - three times a day.
The afternoon's beating still throbbed with pain. Her ribs ached with each shallow breath, a gentle touch on her skin made her whimper in pain.
The chill of the concrete seeped into her bones, mirroring the cold dread spreading within. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant clangs of cell doors and muffled cries.
Her mind raced with questions. 'Why was nobody coming for me?'
"Harry," she whispered. Would he come to rescue her? Or had she lost him to Valerie, forever?
