CHAPTER 18 – WHISPERS IN THE WALLS

AMARA

The guards’ voices rise down the corridor, sharp and commanding. Damn. I guess time’s up already.

I stretch, joints cracking, and fall into line behind the others. The smell of disinfectant and sweat hangs heavy in the air — a mix of control and confinement.

“Psst.”

A whisper, soft and close.

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