Hiliana's Point of View
The cold metallic hallway groaned beneath our hurried steps, echoing off the walls like ghosts whispering warnings. Ryena had wandered off somewhere—we weren't sure how—but Abby and I continued searching, weaving through dim corridors with peeling paint and flickering lights. The power was inconsistent lately. Just like everything else in this damned prison. But even if the darkness wanted to choke us, I wouldn't let it.
Not tonight.
We paused beneath a rusted ventilation pipe that dripped water onto Abby's shoulder. She shivered and swore softly. "Where could she be?"
I cracked a smile. "Maybe she went back and fall asleep."
But something pulled at me, deep in my chest. A quiet ache I'd long buried.
We turned a corner. A dead end. No Ryena.
But just as we pivoted to retreat, footsteps rang down the hall from the opposite direction. I reached for Abby's hand automatically, instincts honed from years on the street. Her fingers tightened around mine.
From the shadows, a group of guards emerged. At first, I thought they hadn't noticed us. But then one of them stepped forward, her boots clicking with sharp, confident rhythm. She was younger than the rest, smaller, but her presence drowned the corridor.
My breath hitched.
I froze.
Because even in the dim light, I saw it.
That mark. That distinct birthmark shaped like a half-heart, nestled near her right cheekbone.
I knew that face. Changed as it was. Hardened. Sharpened. But I knew it.
And when her eyes met mine—brown, like rich earth warmed under sunlight—I almost crumbled.
No.
It couldn't be.
"...Mila?" I whispered.
The girl narrowed her eyes. The others flanked her silently, weapons in hand but not raised.
My chest tightened, heart leaping against my ribs so violently I thought it might bruise.
"It's me," I said louder, stepping forward despite Abby's tight grip on my arm. "It's Inez."
The girl blinked, the briefest flicker of recognition stirring in her gaze. Then—gone. Just like that.
She raised her gun and pointed it at me.
"Don't move," she barked. "Inmates caught past curfew are subject to immediate detainment."
"No… No, wait—" I didn't flinch. I didn't breathe. "You're my sister. Mila—don't you remember me? You had a toy giraffe named Bobo! We used to dance in the rain, you loved sweet potato chips—dammit, you used to steal mine!"
She faltered.
Her grip on the gun trembled slightly.
Then she hissed through her teeth, voice shaking. "You're lying. My sister is dead. She died years ago."
"No—no, I didn't." My voice cracked like shattered glass. "I ran. I hid. I survived. And I searched for you every damn day."
She was shaking now. Her lips parted. A tremor raced through her stance like she was breaking apart at the seams.
"They told me…" she whispered. "They said you were gone. That you abandoned me."
"I didn't. I swear on everything. I fought to get back to you. I never stopped. I…" I stepped forward, tears blurring my vision. "I'm here now. It's really me."
Behind me, Abby stayed silent—watching, unsure, her eyes full of something tender.
But the girl—my sister—stepped back.
Her gun still pointed, but her face twisted with conflict.
"I'm not supposed to believe you. They said… they saved me. They gave me a new name. They took me in when I had no one."
My throat burned.
"And what did they give you in return, huh?" I snapped, voice raw. "A number? A uniform? A gun to point at your own blood?"
She flinched.
I took a deep breath, softer now. "Mila, look at me. Look into my eyes. You used to say mine looked like honey with sunlight in it. That's what you told me, remember?"
She lowered the gun—slightly.
The guards behind her tensed, but she raised her hand, signaling them to stand down.
Silence swallowed the corridor.
Finally, her lips trembled. "Inez?"
My heart cracked.
"Yes. Yes, baby. I'm here."
She took a shaky step toward me. "I thought you were dead. I thought—NO! I can't...you should stay away"
I caught her before she fell.She crumpled into my arms, gun clattering to the floor. Tears soaked the collar of my uniform. Hers too.
We stood like that in the hallway for what felt like eternity, just two broken girls trying to piece together years of pain in a single embrace.
"My baby, Please come back to me..." I pleaded as i look at her with teary eyes "I'll protect you... so please come back to me"
Joy doesn't last long in places like this. A siren wailed in the distance.
Her eyes widened. "They're watching me. I'm not supposed to—"
"I don't care," I whispered into her hair. "I found you. That's what matters."
She pulled away with trembling hands and shoved me away, Then she turned to the other guards, who's looking at us with cold expression.
Grabbed her gun.
And marched away like nothing happened. Abby stepped beside me, her eyes wide with awe and quiet pain.
"NO. NO. Mila please don't go... Please I've been looking for you all of my life... Please come back...." I begged as I tried to stop her but Abby grab me.
"Hiliana we can't stay here for too long," she whispered. "Give her time to adjust"
I nodded, unable to speak.
Because even if the world burned around me at least now I knew. She was alive. And that was enough to keep fighting.