Just as the boy tried to walk beside her, his little legs trembling beneath the weight of his pain and exhaustion, he stumbled.
Silver gasped.
His body went limp mid-step, and he fell face-first onto the pavement with a sickening thud. But even in that painful collapse, he clung to Silver's hand like a lifeline.
"God—no, no, no—" she dropped to her knees beside him.
His lips were trembling, blood dripping freshly from his already wounded nose. His eyes rolled slightly, dazed. He had no strength left. That was when Silver lost it.
Her breath hitched with rage and sorrow as she gently turned him onto his side. Carefully, she lifted the filthy, torn hem of his pants. The moment she saw his leg—bruised, twisted unnaturally, and swelling rapidly—her heart snapped.
His bone had shifted. Probably cracked. From the repeated beatings? Kicks? She didn't know. But what kind of monsters beat a child to the point he couldn't even walk?
