Chapter 45: A Reason to Keep Fighting

*Layla*

I stumbled as I was shoved roughly into the back of the shipping crate, my eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light. The stench of sweat, fear, and despair hit me like a physical blow, and I had to fight the urge to gag.

As my vision cleared, I took in the scene before me. The crate was packed with people, mostly women and girls, all of them looking as terrified and lost as I felt. Some were crying softly, others staring blankly into space, their eyes haunted and empty.

A gruff voice barked orders in Russian, and I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, pushing me further into the crate. I tried to resist, but my muscles were weak and shaky from exhaustion and fear.

"Move," the voice growled in heavily accented English. "And take this. You'll need it."

A small pack was shoved into my hands, and I clutched it to my chest instinctively. I could feel the outline of a water bottle and what seemed to be some kind of packaged food.