Jared blinked, startled by the shift in her tone. The sharpness of her words was like a slap, but what struck deeper was the quiver beneath them—the raw vulnerability she rarely allowed to surface.
His hands, still bound, relaxed slightly, though his expression remained tense, like a man teetering on the edge of something he didn't want to face.
"Jerica…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words caught in his throat. The moment hung heavy between them, the weight of her pain and his guilt pressing down like a suffocating fog.
The kidnappers stayed silent, their earlier bravado replaced by unease. Whatever they had anticipated from their captives—fear, pleading, maybe even silence—this wasn't it. The emotional storm unfolding before them made them feel like unwelcome intruders.
