Soraya's POV
I curled tighter into myself, pressing my forehead against my knees until my bones ached. The air was damp and heavy, carrying the stench of rust and dried blood from countless prisoners before me.
Outside, the last traces of daylight bled away.
Nightfall.
Which meant I had minutes left — minutes before they killed me.
My chest constricted. My mind clung desperately to the only warmth I had left — memories. The warm dinners we shared, the silly fights that always ended with one of us apologizing first. Maya's laugh as we danced in the kitchen. The quiet nights curled on the couch watching bad movies. The smell of fresh bread from the corner shop. The way life used to feel so safe.
Tears stung my eyes.
I would never see her again. Never step into that supermarket. Never have those little, ordinary moments that had once felt so small — but now felt like everything.
The toll bell rang.
The sound cut through me like a blade.
No… no, no.
