Daphne's POV
Mother vanished from the cell without another glance, the heavy door slamming shut with a metallic clang that echoed off the damp stone walls. Her footsteps faded down the corridor alongside Isla's lighter pace, leaving me trapped in suffocating silence. The only sounds were the steady drip of water somewhere in the shadows and my own ragged breathing.
I couldn't bring myself to sit on that decrepit bench. It looked ready to collapse, and worse, something told me it would leave a stench on my clothes that would linger for days. But standing proved its own form of torture. My legs throbbed with exhaustion, and the bone-deep cold had settled into my joints like it planned to make itself at home permanently.
