Chapter 78 The Darkest Hour

• Clara woke to the sharp bite of cold metal against her wrists. Her arms were bound behind her, the chair beneath her hard and unforgiving. The air smelled damp, tinged with the acrid scent of gasoline and rust. A single, flickering bulb overhead cast long, jagged shadows along the cracked cement walls.
• Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs.
• Alexander stood a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, watching her like a predator savoring his prey.