(Mira's POV)
I was weak. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest. My stomach felt hollow, gnawed from a day without real food, only stale water sipped in desperation. My throat burned, my head spun, and the knots of fatigue wrapped themselves around me like chains.
They hadn't even given me a proper bed. Just a chair. My wrists were raw from the bindings, the ropes cutting into my skin with every tiny shift. My legs, tired and stiff, throbbed painfully. And yet… I forced myself to sit as upright as I could, refusing to slouch into the dark surrender that begged me to sleep.
How cruel could someone be? His uncle, the one who had sworn family meant protection, had left me like this. No food, no comfort, no mercy. It was as though my existence had been reduced to a tool—a pawn in someone else's plan.
