That night, the safe house Arga had prepared felt unnervingly silent. The living room lamp was left dim, as if allowing exhaustion to linger in the air, too heavy to turn into sleep. Vania curled up on the sofa, her body trembling beneath the blanket pulled up to her neck.

Suddenly, she jolted awake. Her breathing came in ragged bursts, cold sweat dampening her forehead. Her eyes darted wide, searching for light as if she were still trapped in that dark warehouse.

“Let me go!” she gasped, her voice hoarse, hands flinching upward as though still bound.

Arga, who had been sitting close by, rushed to her side. “Vania, hey…...