Silver didn't know how long she sat on that freezing metal floor with her back against the damp wall, holding Louis' feverish body in her arms. The waves outside the cargo hold rocked the ship gently, but the fear in her heart was a violent storm. Her lips were chapped, her throat burned from screaming, and her head ached from dehydration and anguish.
When the door creaked open, she flinched, her grip tightening instinctively around Louis. Several large, armed men entered. Their faces were blank, soulless, as if this kind of cruelty was routine. One man reached for her, unlocking the chains that bound her bruised wrists and ankles.
She didn't have the strength to resist, not anymore. She wanted to scream as they pulled Louis from her arms, but her voice had long since turned to a hoarse rasp. The only sound that escaped her throat was a dry sob, raw and broken.
