Four days had passed.
Lumia stood quietly at the doorway of the dimly lit room, her arms folded gently, eyes fixed on the girl lying in the bed. Her crimson eyes, once dull and weary, now shimmered faintly with regained life, though a deep concern still lingered within them. Her hair, golden and smooth once more, swayed softly with the cool breeze coming through the cracked wall vent. Though she had recovered physically, a heavy weight remained pressed on her heart.
She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Stupid… why did you push yourself so hard? You didn't just fill my quota… you even filled future ones. You could've died."
Behind her, a familiar voice responded softly.
"I'm sure you would've done the same, sister."
Lumia turned to see Xia standing silently just a few steps behind. She approached and stood beside her, eyes on Clara.
"Sister Clara didn't want to burden the others," Xia said quietly. "The girls were already struggling with their own quotas. She thought… maybe if she just took it all on herself, she could give them a bit of relief." Xia looked at Lumia with a small, bittersweet smile. "She may act more composed than you… but both of you are hopeless when it comes to self-sacrifice."
Lumia let out a tired breath. "I'm not as good a person as you think."
Xia looked up at her. "That's not what I see. You're not perfect—but you fight, even when you're broken. That's why we look to you."
Before Lumia could respond, a harsh coughing sound broke the moment. Both girls turned sharply toward the bed.
"Clara!" Lumia rushed to her side. "Xia, get Fors! Now!"
Xia didn't hesitate. She bolted out of the room, slippers tapping quickly against the stone floor.
Lumia gently held Clara's hand. "It's okay. Just hold on a little longer…"
Within minutes, Xia returned with Fors in tow. The shorter girl had already strapped her satchel of herbs and bottles across her shoulder. Her expression was calm, focused—sharp brown eyes darting from Clara to Lumia as she knelt beside the bed.
Fors checked Clara's pulse, then quickly pulled out several dried herbs and a small stone grinder. "Hold her head up," she instructed.
Lumia obeyed without question, propping Clara up slightly as Fors ground the herbs and mixed them with warm water. Once the bitter liquid was ready, she gently poured it into Clara's mouth. The girl coughed at first, but gradually swallowed it down.
A long silence followed. Her breathing slowed, evened out.
Fors finally leaned back and exhaled. "She'll wake up soon. Let her rest."
Three hours passed.
Clara's eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first. The dim light from the corridor outside the door gave just enough glow to see a familiar figure sleeping beside her.
Lumia, sitting by the edge of the bed, arms resting on the mattress, her head leaning to the side. Her golden hair spilled over her shoulder, face serene but tired.
Clara smiled softly. She moved slightly, and the creak of the bed stirred Lumia awake.
Their eyes met.
Clara opened her mouth to speak—but Lumia moved first, wrapping her arms tightly around her in a trembling hug. Clara blinked, then closed her eyes and returned the embrace.
"I'm so glad you're okay," Clara whispered.
Lumia pulled back, her eyes moist. "No. You had it worse. Why did you have to take so much on yourself?" Her voice cracked. "Don't ever do something that stupid again. Please, Clara. Promise me."
Clara reached up and brushed some hair away from Lumia's face. "Okay… I promise."
Clara was helped out of the room later, leaning lightly on Lumia for support. Her steps were slow, but steady. The moment the girls in the hallway saw her, hushed gasps echoed through the air.
They all turned toward her, but didn't rush forward—remembering Fors' strict instructions from before.
"Don't crowd a sick person! They're not livestock!" she'd yelled once.
Instead, the girls stood at a respectful distance, each voicing their concern.
Clara smiled faintly. "I'm okay."
Later that night, well past midnight, the dining hall of their confinement quarters was dimly lit. A few candles were carefully shielded, placed strategically to offer just enough light without alerting the guards.
One by one, the girls entered the hall. Some carried blankets; others had tied their hair up to appear alert, awake. Nobody talked. No unnecessary footsteps. Just silent, disciplined movement. They had learned to live like shadows.
Two girls stood quietly at the doorway, listening for guard footsteps. They had a system—three knocks if danger approached, two if it was safe.
Clara was seated next to Fors, in case anything happened. Her pale skin still looked fragile under the glow, but her eyes were calm.
Once Lumia confirmed everyone was present—all twenty-eight girls—she stood up at the head of the table.
She took a deep breath.
Her voice was steady, but low.
"Let's make a plan for escape."
A ripple of emotion passed across the room.
No one spoke for a few seconds.
Maya, the tallest among them and the physically strongest, finally spoke. "Do you… have a plan?"
"I have thoughts," Lumia replied. "Ideas. But I want everyone involved. We do this together… or not at all."
Another girl, Lyra, looked worried. "What if we fail? What if we're caught?"
"We're already prisoners," Fors said flatly. "Living to be bled dry. That's not life."
There were nods of agreement—hesitant, but present.
Lumia looked at each girl, one by one. "This won't happen tomorrow. Or next week. But we start now. We map their patrols. We document who guards where. We act sick when we need to. We watch everything."
"What about the outside?" a girl in the back asked. "Even if we escape this place, what then?"
"We figure it out when we get there," Lumia answered. "But I'd rather die running… than live rotting in a cage."
The silence that followed wasn't fear anymore. It was resolve.
Lumia continued, "Tonight, just think. Reflect. We'll begin preparing tomorrow. Quietly. No one acts on their own."
She stepped away from the head of the table and looked at Clara, who smiled faintly and nodded.
"We're with you," said Fors.
One by one, the girls began nodding.
Lumia whispered, "Then let's begin breaking our Shackles
To be continued....