The noises faded.
No crying, no screaming, no military boots anymore.
Even the children… had stopped weeping.
As if exhaustion and grief had strangled everything.
In the basement, the small beds were lined up on the floor like open coffins.
Each child lay down, back to the wall, face to the darkness.
But their eyes… did not sleep.
Donfrey lay on his mattress, staring into an invisible ceiling.
Every time he blinked, he saw the little hand slipping from Freya's.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the body being torn apart before him…
And every time he remembered, something burned in his chest.
He turned to his side.
His mind wouldn't rest.
"If I'd just been faster… if I'd pulled her with Freya… maybe…"
Then came Greg's face, laughing.
That laugh wouldn't leave him.
Donfrey reached to his chest, clenching the edge of the worn blanket so tight it gave a soft tear.
Then he sat up.
No words.
He looked around.
Greg was asleep.
His back turned to him.
Breathing slowly… coldly.
As if nothing had happened.
Donfrey's foot rose from the floor like it didn't belong to him.
He stood.
He crept forward…
His steps light—he was no longer a boy, but a ghost.
The way to Greg's bed was short…
Yet it felt like the longest walk Donfrey had ever taken.
He reached it.
He looked at his back.
"You're still breathing… after all that?"
Slowly, he extended his hand.
It trembled.
His fingers neared the boy's neck.
His eyes wide…
Heart pounding in his ears…
He no longer saw the bed, or the basement, or the children—only:
"An animal laughing at slaughtered children."
His hand inched closer—
But—
A small hand grasped his wrist.
He froze.
He looked.
Freya.
Her face pale in the dark.
She hadn't slept.
Her eyes red from crying,
But she said nothing.
Just… a look.
A look that extinguished fire.
He stared at her, stunned.
Time seemed to freeze.
Her hand trembled in his…
But she didn't let go.
Slowly, Donfrey lowered his hand.
He took two steps back and sat on the floor.
Then, he bowed his head…
As if the weight in his chest collapsed all at once.
Freya sat beside him in silence.
No words.
No comfort.
Just two kids…
Who escaped the tunnel,
But not themselves.