He crawled out of a forgotten basement with a br0ken leg, dragging his d.y.i.n.g little sister toward the last remaining beam of light.
His escape was not only about survival.
It was a silent cry the world desperately needed to hear.
Rylan Ashford could no longer tell whether morning had arrived or already passed.
The basement had erased all sense of time. The damp air clung to his skin like another layer, and every breath carried the sour smell of mold.
His right leg pulsed with relentless pa!n.
Whenever he tried to move even slightly, agony shot from his ankle to his thigh until bright sparks flashed behind his closed eyes.
Beside him, his little sister Pippa drifted in and out of restless sleep, her forehead burning with fever. She kept whispering for water, her tiny voice barely audible. Rylan brushed the hair away from her face and whispered softly, “I am here. I am not leaving you.”
The words shook as he spoke them, but he needed them to feel real.
They were the only thing keeping the fear inside him from taking over completely.
