The makeshift chamber hums with stale air and flickering light.
Esme sits—small, defiant, and silent.
Tavian stands in front of her, the firestick in his grip trembling just enough to betray him. He's taller, older—sixteen—but that doesn't make him feel in control. Not when she won't speak. Not when she keeps staring at him like he's the one trapped here.
"You think you're clever?" Tavian mutters. "You think they'll believe you over me?" Words spilled from his lips meant to threaten and scare. However...
No response.
He tightens his hold on the weapon. It's meant to scare her. But all it does is make his own hands shake more.
Damn it.
Then—the door crashes open.
Two adult guards storm in, eyes wide. One freezes mid-step. The other doesn't.
"Tavian! What the hell!" the older one snaps. "Drop that thing, Now."
Tavian turns, startled. "She—she's not talking. I thought—" he stuttered in panic.
