A glimpse of the past 5

My sweet girl is broken.

The light in her eyes—the spark that once made her leap from trees, debate historical facts, and dream of true mates and small villages—is gone. What remains is a hollow emptiness that twists my heart into knots. I no longer see the vivacious, mischievous girl who once climbed trees and talked about running away to live in a quiet village by the sea.

Now, she sits still, too still, like a porcelain doll left to gather dust on a forgotten shelf. Her emerald eyes, once filled with curiosity and mischief, are dull and distant. The bruises on her skin will fade, but the ones on her soul… I fear those are permanent.

The small bag of coins in my palm feels heavier than it should as I hand it to the hooded woman standing in the shadows of the marble pillar. The physician takes it wordlessly, her face hidden beneath the fabric. I don't ask her name. I don't want to know. All I needed from her was confirmation—a truth we can no longer ignore.