139

Donovan swung open the door, his presence casting a dark shadow over the already dismal room. With a swift motion, he confiscated Boma's phone, before exiting and locking her back in, leaving her defenseless as she took in the bleak surroundings.

The room was small and sparsely furnished, with bare walls painted in a dull shade of beige that did nothing to lift the oppressive atmosphere.

In one corner of the room stood a narrow bed, its thin mattress adorned with a scratchy blanket that offered little in the way of comfort. On the opposite side, a small table held a jug of water and a couple of cups, the only sign of life in the otherwise barren space.

But it was the sight of Teni, sitting huddled in a corner with her knees drawn up to her chest, that drew Boma's attention.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, betraying the tears she had undoubtedly shed in the solitude of this cold, unforgiving room.

As Boma approached, Teni looked up, her expression a mix of relief and despair.