The moment Alina heard the familiar voice call her name, "Alina?", her heart leaped into her throat. She spun around so quickly she almost lost her balance, her eyes desperately scanning the dim, torch-lit corridor lined with prison cells.
Her gaze locked onto a pair of hands extending through the iron bars of a cell a little further down, urgently waving, gesturing for her attention.
She knew those hands. She recognized the figure silhouetted behind the bars, even in the poor light.
Without a second thought, she broke into a run, her footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise silent corridor. Eric, startled by her sudden movement, watched her go, then quickly followed a few paces behind, his own senses on high alert.
Alina reached the cell in seconds. Peering through the bars, her eyes adjusted to the dimness within. And there they were. Her older brother, his face pale but instantly recognizable. Her father, looking tired, but alive.
