The room felt like a coffin.
Dim, grimy, filled with the stink of oil and blood, its walls seemed to press inward with every breath they took.
Zara sat in the far corner, her back against the wall, Leo cradled in her arms. His tiny body was curled into her, face tucked into her neck, his silent tears dampening her collar.
She whispered to him—nonsense words, anything to distract him from the chaos they'd just escaped.
Once again, she was putting her baby through the stress even adults shouldn't have to experience.
"You're safe, baby. We're gonna get out of here. Just hold on a little longer."
Leo didn't respond, just trembled. She could feel the shudders, deep and uncontrollable, even as he tried to be brave.
