By morning, she was back in her cell.
Her hands were shaking. Her hair clung damply to her face, and her eyes — once sharp and calculating — were unfocused, glassy.
There was blood on her arms and legs. One of her eyes was swollen, purpling at the corner. She had been tortured all night in the storage room by the woman guard.
She only prayed that Tang Mingze would be able to find a way to break out of this prison and save her.
Suddenly she heard some guards running outside, alarms blaring faintly somewhere in the male cell block. Her heartbeat quickened.
Something's happened.
She rushed to the door, pressing her ear against it. Faintly, she could hear voices — panicked, muffled, but one line stood out:
"Someone has been found dead… Tang Mingze's dead!"
Her knees buckled. The air left her lungs. "No…" she whispered, gripping the cold door handle. "No, no, no…he can't be dead..."
If Tang Mingze is dead then who is going to save her?
