WRITER'S POV

“JERK!” Clara stomped in her cell. She noticed the cells were scanty and hissed. “He'd grown so soft,” she mumbled, referring to Derrick.

Although the cells were scanty and quiet, it however did not stop the strong stench in the cells. She knew she wouldn't last if she stayed there one more day. Let alone before she'd be beheaded. She stopped as she pondered deeply on Derrick's words. Would he really behead her?

She very well knew Derrick was a man of his words. But recently she knew he'd become a coward, stalling when he was to act and hesitating when he was to make a decision. But...