An Unexpected Visit

**Shaira's POV**

I was sitting on the cold floor of the cell, my back against the stone wall. My hands, tied tightly behind me, ached, and each breath felt like an exhausting effort. The air was damp and heavy, and the smell of mold mixed with the scent of my own dried blood. I closed my eyes, trying to recall happier memories, to find some trace of hope that would allow me to keep fighting.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening made me lift my head. Through the dim light, I saw a familiar figure quickly enter and close the door behind her. Zania. Her face showed concern, and she carried a small bowl of water and a piece of bread wrapped in cloth. Seeing her, a slight relief mingled with the sadness that had settled in my chest.

"Shaira..." she murmured, approaching where I was. She knelt beside me, extending the water and the bread. "Here, you need this. I know it's not much, but it'll help you regain some strength."

I tried to muster a grateful smile as I took the water with my dry lips. Each sip was a relief for my burning throat, but the physical relief did not ease the emptiness I felt inside. "Thank you, Zania," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "You shouldn’t have risked coming here."

Zania shook her head, a determined gesture. "I had to. Angro is doing everything he can to find a way out for you, but we need you to hold on a little longer," she said, her eyes fixed on mine. "You’re not giving up now, are you?"

Her words tried to encourage me, but despair was a weight that crushed me. I nodded slowly, but I knew my gaze must have reflected the truth: I felt exhausted, broken. I was grateful for her gesture, for her attempt to lift my spirit, but my heart was weighed down by uncertainty and pain.

I drank another sip of water and let the bowl fall to the side, too tired to hold it any longer. My body was exhausted, but my mind was even more so, much more than I wanted to admit. The silence between Zania and me stretched on for a few moments, and it was she who finally broke it.

"Angro won’t give up, Shaira. I know he won’t," she said firmly. "He’s willing to risk everything for you. Now more than ever, you need to keep fighting."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. There was nothing in her words that I didn’t want to believe, but in my heart, a dark shadow had taken root. "Angro…" I murmured, shaking my head, "Angro would be better off without me."

Zania frowned and leaned in a bit closer, her gaze filled with disbelief. "What are you saying? How can you think that after everything he’s done for you? He loves you, Shaira. He’d rather die than let you fall into Omawit’s hands."

"That’s precisely what I fear," I replied, my voice trembling as I spoke. "That he’ll die because of me." I paused, feeling the tension tightening in my chest. "And besides… you love him too."

Zania’s expression changed in an instant. At first, her eyes widened in surprise, and then I saw her face flush. She shook her head, her hands clenched in her lap. "No… I don’t know what you’re talking about," she stammered. "This isn’t about me. It’s about you and Angro. He’s willing to fight for you."

"Zania," I said, with a softer tone, trying to add some warmth to my words. "There’s no need to deny it. I see it in your eyes, in the way you look at him… I’m not blind. I know you love him, and I think he knows it too."

She lowered her gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. The silence that fell between us was heavy with emotion. Even though she didn’t say it, her reaction confirmed everything. I felt a pang of pain and resignation. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I knew I had to face reality, even if it was painful for both of us.

I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to ignore the lump I felt in my throat. I looked at Zania, who still had her head down, her body tense. The weight of what I had implied hung in the air, filling the silence between us in an unbearable way. I took advantage of that moment to say what I had to say, knowing that, even if it hurt, it was for the best for everyone.

"Zania," I began, my voice firmer than I expected. "Listen to me. The best thing you can do now is leave. Get away from all this… find Angro and be happy with him." I paused, feeling the words burn in my mouth. "I know Angro feels something for you, even if he won’t admit it or doesn’t even realize it. You’re connected. It makes sense for you to rely on each other."

Zania slowly raised her eyes, and in them, I saw a mixture of disbelief and pain. She opened her mouth to say something, but I interrupted her before she could protest.

"I don’t want Angro to lose his life because of me," I said, in a broken whisper. Tears began to blur my vision, but I couldn’t stop. "If he truly loves me, the only thing I ask of him is to leave with you and forget about me. To live. To be happy. I can’t bear the thought of his life ending because of me. It’s not worth it, Zania. I’m not worth it."

The tears streamed down my cheeks, but I didn’t try to hide them. It was the truth. My love for Angro was so great that I would rather see him walk away from me and live than know that he would die in a desperate attempt to save me. Maybe that meant I had already accepted my fate, or maybe it meant I had resigned myself to losing the only good thing that had come into my life amid the chaos.

Zania took a step towards me, her eyes shining with a mix of anger and sadness. "How can you say that?" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. "Shaira, you’re talking as if you’re already condemned. You can’t give up now!"

"It’s not giving up," I replied, bitterness in my voice. "It’s being realistic. Angro deserves a better life, and you… you could give it to him. Please, Zania. Walk away from this while you still can. Take Angro and go together. Leave me behind. It’ll be for the best."

Zania’s face hardened, and I saw in her eyes something beyond compassion or understanding. There was pain, but there was also determination.