Morana's Point Of View
I pulled away from Nancy slowly, feeling the way her body still trembled against mine.
Her bruises were swollen and deep, her skin a painful canvas of black and blue, but what shattered me most were her eyes—eyes that had once been filled with light and fire but now looked hollow, dimmed by suffering.
She had suffered enough. I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out my phone, and pressed a number.
It rang once.
"Boss?" A deep, rough voice answered immediately.
"Take Nancy to the hospital," I ordered, my tone sharp, leaving no room for argument. "Make sure she gets the best treatment. I don't care how much it costs."
"Understood," he responded without hesitation.
Nancy sniffled beside me, her head lowering slightly. I turned back to her, my hand gently resting over hers. She looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
