Becky stood beside her, her face a mirror of Kiara’s own internal torment—wide eyes filled with fear, lips trembling as she struggled to mask the panic rising within her. They worked with a frantic urgency, their hands moving swiftly over the cluttered space, their eyes darting desperately from one corner to the next.
Every creak of the floorboards and every rustle of the equipment heightened their sense of dread. The air was thick with tension, and their breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts as they pressed on. Amidst the clutter, Kiara’s gaze fixed on a small, inconspicuous cage tucked away in the corner.