As the hours dragged on, doubt began to creep into her mind. Why hadn't anyone come to see her yet? Why was she still locked in this cold, suffocating cell?
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "They won't leave me here," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Grandpa Saul will wake up soon. He'll fix this. He always does."
Yet, deep inside, she knew the situation was different this time. Her mind raced as she tried to find a way out. If she could just talk to her father… if she could explain everything. But would he even believe her? After everything that had come to light?
Carla shook her head again, more forcefully this time. "No," she whispered to herself. "I am Carla Cartier. I am their daughter. They will not abandon me."
But as the day stretched on, and the silence of the detention center wrapped around her like a suffocating blanket, the sinking realization took hold.
