Sandy's POV
The silence that followed Charles's departure pressed against me like a suffocating weight. I stayed frozen on the couch, his parting words echoing through my mind with relentless clarity.
You have had your fun. Now it is my turn.
What twisted game was he playing now?
I wrapped my arms around myself, the torn fabric of my shirt hanging loose against my skin. Every place his breath had touched still burned with phantom heat, making my body betray the fury coursing through my veins.
Time became meaningless as I sat there, lost in the aftermath of his presence. The cold eventually seeped through my bones, erasing any lingering warmth from his touch. With shaking hands, I tried to button what remained of my shirt, though most of the buttons lay scattered across the floor.
The video of Fred and Paul still flickered on the screen, a cruel reminder of why I needed to escape this prison. I had to find them and get us all out of here.
