Chapter 4 — Ghosts of Devotion

Verity

The cell was quiet, save for the faint hum of the surveillance camera overhead. Verity sat on the grimy cot, her head tilted back against the cold concrete wall. Her piercing grey eyes were unfocused yet sharp, scanning the cracked ceiling as though it might yield some hidden answer. The ropes around her wrists burned with every shift, the coarse fibers biting into her skin. She didn’t flinch. Pain was familiar—manageable. But the silence, heavy and watchful, pressed against her like an iron weight. The absence of sound carved into her thoughts, splitting them wide open for the ghosts to creep in.