Chapter 122: The Call

After a few hours, finally, sleep decided to visit me. I lay curled on the cold stone floor. But just as the edges of consciousness began to blur, a familiar scent pierced the stale air – a blend of cedarwood and sandalwood, a scent that sent a jolt through my body.

Nicholas.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it to be a figment of my tortured imagination. But the sound of approaching footsteps, heavy and deliberate, shattered the illusion. It was then his voice that confirmed it was not my imagination.

“Are you asleep?”

I opened my eyes and instantly sat upright, staring at him.

“W-what are you doing here?” I asked, stunned.

He stopped in the cell opposite mine, leaning to the bars. The clinking of the bottle held the only sound room. He sat on the floor casually clad in casual sweatpants and a t-shirt. My gaze landed on the bottle in his hand, half-empty and held with a loose grip.

"Couldn't sleep," he confessed, his voice tired, "Couldn't stop thinking."

I bite my lip to stop the te