In the dank basement where Heather was imprisoned, shadows clung to the walls like cobwebs. The air was heavy with the musty stench of dampness and decay.
She used to be confined in a house; at least there, she could bask in the sunlight, but for reasons unknown, she had been abruptly moved to this underground cell.
It was as if... they feared someone might find her.
Heather guessed Amanda was probably searching for her.
"I'm so cold... could I have another coat?" she asked, her fingers curling around the cold metal bars as she tried to negotiate with the guard outside her cell.
"Cold? You won't freeze to death!" the guard grunted dismissively.
"But if I get sick, that's on you, right?" Heather responded with a forced smile, injecting a hint of flirtation into her gaze, "Besides, it's not like there's anyone else around. Even if you give me a coat, who's gonna know?"
She had taken the measure of the two men guarding her. The one who had just left was tall and thin, introverted, always silent, with a perpetual scowl on his face - not the type to engage in conversation.
But this one, the shorter and rounder guard, was different. He would often tease his tall, thin colleague, even asking without any hint of shame if he had ever been with a woman!
The rotund guard glanced at her, obviously annoyed. "If I give you my coat, what am I supposed to wear?"
"Aren't men supposed to be all hot-blooded? You could... do some exercises to warm up!"
Exercises to warm up?
At a suggestion like that, any man's thoughts might wander off track.
"Oh, you're offering to sleep with me now?"
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