C12 The Cost of War

The girl—no older than eight, her hair matted and dirty—was a silent witness to everything. She didn’t cry, didn’t speak, just stared with wide eyes that held more terror than words could capture. Emilia had to look away. She wasn’t sure she could stomach the sight of innocence being used as a pawn in this game.

The note had been left on her bed, written in smudged