AUTHORS POV

It was raining like the heavens was at war with satan.

The ramshackle cabin nestled deep in God knows where was lit by a single kerosene lamp, its warm glow illuminating peeling paint and a threadbare couch where Clarissa and Sofia huddled.

The storm outside rattled the tin roof in relentless beats. Rain pounded the windows, and the wind whipped the trees into desperate whispers, like ghosts hunted them.

This was their sanctuary—and their prison.

Clarissa cradled her daughter, Sofia, against her chest as Tessa stirred a pot of rice on a small gas burner.

“It’s been a while I cooked something” she said as she stirred the...