Daniela could still hear Mateo's screams—raw, desperate, a sound that clawed its way into her mind, refusing to let go.
The screams echoed through her thoughts, like jagged shards of glass, cutting deeper every time she tried to push them away.
They weren't just in her head. They were everywhere. His voice, trembling and desperate, whispered in her ears, sometimes behind her, sometimes beside her, and other times so close to her face that she could almost feel the warmth of his breath, though she knew it was impossible.
His tortured cry seemed to surround her, seeping into the very air she breathed.
"Daniela… Daniela…"
The sound of his voice was like a curse. But she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
Her legs burned with exhaustion, and every movement felt like it required every ounce of her remaining strength. Her hands scraped against the cold, rough surface of the stairs, but she kept crawling upward.
