Chapter 64

• As morning light filtered through the curtains, Luciana walked into the room, her footsteps soft against the cold floor. The sight before her tugged at her heart. Aria lay curled up on the floor, a thin sheet barely covering her frail body, her hair splayed around her like a dark halo. The remnants of tears glistened on her cheeks, a testament to the pain she had endured.
• Luciana paused, a wave of pity washing over her. She had seen Aria in various states of distress, but this—this was different. The vulnerability of her position struck a chord deep within Luciana. Aria looked so small, so lost, as if the weight of the world pressed down on her fragile frame.
• Kneeling beside her, Luciana brushed a few stray strands of hair from Aria’s face, her heart aching at the sight of her friend in such despair. “Oh, Aria,” she whispered softly, her voice barely above a murmur. “What have they done to you?”