The Wrong Woman

Within the confines of a narrow cell, a gentle stream of sunlight filtered through the window.

Mila lay at the edge of the bed, slipping into a deep slumber. Her hand clasped Nathan's palm tightly. The sun's rays bathed her side, casting a comforting warmth around her.

Nathan slowly opened his eyes, feeling feeble and weak. He glanced at the dilapidated ceiling before surveying his surroundings. A bitterness curled his lips. Despite having ventured through the death, he found himself back in this cursed place.

Sensing his hand being held, Nathan lifted his head and found Mila. His body stiffened in shock. He never wanted to bring her into such danger. Nathan struggled to move, hoping it was all just his dream.

Mila stirred awake at his movements. Seeing Nathan alive, she couldn't contain her excitement, rising to her feet and reaching for his forehead. "Nate, you're awake, finally."

In an instant, Nathan realized this was no dream. Grabbing Mila's wrist, anger surged within him. "Why are you here?"

Mila leaned in, disregarding his question, and gently inquired, "You've been unconscious for two days. Are you feeling alright?”

body, Nathan forcefully pushed himself up, his tone stern. "Tell

to find the

and concern for Mila's safety. He wasn't afraid of death,

anger, Nathan exclaimed, "Chubs, have you

seen from Nathan. Tears blurred

"Yes, I've lost it. If it weren't for me

heaved with anger, his face pale. He uttered, "I'd rather be dead

go of Nathan's hand, turning to leave in an attempt to compose

the iron door, the reality of their confinement sank in. With guards outside, she could

was worried about her

broke the silence. Mila nervously turned around to find Nathan getting out of bed unsteadily, his hand bracing against the bedside table before he stumbled to