Bald, wearing a patient gown and barefoot, Robin had vacant eyes that were haunting. His face, neck, and even scalp were marred with unhealed scars. Drool had soaked the front of his gown, leaving a damp patch.
Eliza couldn’t fathom how a young man in his early twenties could be so broken.
"Robin."
She could barely recognize him. Her heart felt like it was bleeding, making it hard for her to breathe.
Just as she moved forward, the person pushing the wheelchair stopped her with a firm hand. "Keep your distance."
Eliza, overcome with emotion, pushed past the person. "Why are you doing this to him? How did he get these injuries? Did you hit him? Tell me!"
She clung to the man’s clothes, her grip frantic and desperate. She was spiraling, losing her grip on reality.
The noise attracted several people from outside, who pried Eliza away and wheeled Robin out. She was pushed to the ground. Scrambling to her feet, she chased after them, but the door slammed shut in her face.
She banged on the door, twisting the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. "Open the door! Where are you taking him? Open the door, please!"
No one answered her pleas.
She slumped against the wooden door, her body going limp, tears streaming down her face in utter despair.
Through her tear-filled eyes, she noticed Casper sitting across from her, legs crossed.
Ignoring her own disheveled state, she crawled to him, pleading desperately. "Casper, please, let him go. I'll do anything. Robin is innocent. It’s all my fault. I deserve to die, not him. Just let him go, please."
Eliza clasped her hands together, bowing repeatedly like she was praying to a god of life and death.
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