Chapter 86

I looked in the direction Nora was pointing to. There did seem to be someone lying there. Sheree and I looked at each other. Even though there were still a few people around, we cautiously moved closer to the dark corner while still keeping our distance. There, slumped against the wall, was a frail woman with her eyes tightly shut. Her tattered clothes were soaked with a mix of blood and muddy water, and even in the dim light, her face looked deathly pale. Her hands were bound with a thick bundle of hemp rope, and the shackles on her feet were broken, revealing fresh red marks on her ankles from being locked up for a long time. Sheree cried out while rushing forward, "Helen!" I hurried to get a closer look, and at first glance, the woman really did resemble Helen. No wonder Sheree had mistaken her. But something felt off. This woman was far too thin, and Helen wasn't that petite. I wiped the corner of her eye. It wasn't mud or blood—it was a tear-shaped mole. I remembered Helen