The stares came from every direction, each one a blade.
Someone's temper snapped. A thermos container flew through the air and cracked against my chest, splattering hot congee across my body.
Scalding. A blister rose instantly on my exposed skin.
Cyril didn't spare me a single glance.
He stayed at Ruth's side, quietly kicking small stones out of her path, devoting himself entirely to clearing every obstacle from her way.
Watching this, my chest felt crushed beneath something waterlogged and heavy—suffocating, as if I might never draw another full breath.
By the time I gritted my teeth and made it to the standard room, my legs had turned to jelly.
I collapsed onto the hospital bed, too weak to do anything but curl around my daughter.
My little one, you don't have a father anymore.
But that's okay. After tonight, we'll start over. Just the two of us.
That night, Nora burst into wails, her tiny body burning up.
I dragged myself upright and carried her to the door—
Only to be blocked by the guards.
"Miss Pruitt, apologies. Without orders from Mr. Sanchez or Miss Sanchez, you're not permitted to leave this room."