The silence is broken. The fortress is breached. The reprieve is over.

Sounds echo through the concrete passageways, hinting but not illuminating. A squishing footfall. A scrape of plastic on a rough wall. The rustle of layered clothes.

Until finally, a fading yellow beam rounds a corner, invades the alcove where sits the delicate princess. The hesitant progression forward tells her this person is not a threat. Her small body starts to relax, lets the fear squirm out.

One word from his mouth, and she knows. It is him. He has come. “My prince,” Sariah whispers, too low to be heard, even in such a cramped space.

He speaks softly, reassuringly, “It’s me, Sariah. It’s Mariano…from next door. You can come home now. It’ll be alright. Everything is going to be okay. Just take my hand, okay. I’ll show you the way. It’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

He says everything will be okay.

“It won’t,” she thinks to herself, stretching forth a feeble hand, “but I’ll go anyway.“