We have to leave

The young girl gave a slight nod, her trust in Hazel evident. In a world filled with uncertainty and danger, Hazel's words were a lifeline of hope.

Drawing the girl close, Hazel wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly. She knew that sometimes a simple hug could offer the comfort that words couldn't convey.

But just as a fragile sense of solace settled among the girls, another gunshot rang out, this time dangerously close to their cabin. Panic and alarm swept through the captive group, their hearts racing as fear overtook them.

The young child, trembling and frightened, clung to Hazel, her small frame shaking. She whispered in a trembling voice, her words a poignant cry for the comfort of home.

"I don't want to go. I want to see my mom."

Hazel held the trembling girl firmly, offering what little comfort she could in the midst of their shared terror. But the fragile peace they had found was shattered when the cabin door burst open and a group of 7 or 8 masked men stormed in, their guns raised menacingly.

The sight of the armed intruders sent shockwaves of fear rippling through the captive girls, and their collective screams echoed in the confined space. Each of them felt a surge of panic as the men pointed their guns in their direction.

Amid the chaos, a man in a mask entered the room, wielding a rifle with a commanding presence. It was Francisco, the enigmatic and ruthless figure who had loomed over their lives like a dark cloud.

Francisco, taller and more muscular than the others, exuded an aura of dominance that was impossible to ignore. His noticeable veins hinted at the strength and power that lay beneath his imposing exterior. He surveyed the room, his eyes cold and calculating, taking in the terrified faces of the girls who had become unwitting pawns in his dangerous game.

In a disdainful tone, Francisco issued a cold command that sent a chill down the girls' spines. "Take all the girls on the ship now."

The captive girls, gripped by fear and uncertainty, clung to one another as they faced the grim reality of being forcibly taken away. Francisco had signaled to his men to use force, and they were not going to be allowed a choice.

One of the masked men, his impatience growing, barked at them, "Hey, there is no time for us to watch you cry," as he forcefully grasped a girl's arm.

The girl, tears streaming down her face, continued to plead desperately. "No, please, I don't want to go," she cried, her voice filled with terror and desperation.

But the masked man remained unmoved by her pleas, dragging her away without a shred of compassion. The atmosphere in the room was thick with fear and despair as the girls faced the impending ordeal.

Amidst this harrowing scene, a girl's voice cut through the tension. When Francisco turned to look, his gaze met that of a girl standing defiantly before him. There was an enigmatic quality in her eyes, but a fire of bravery burned within her.

Hazel, undeterred by the danger that surrounded her, locked eyes with Francisco and began to speak, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "Every offender has the right to express their final wishes."

She sighed deeply and repeated her plea, her voice unwavering. "So if you would listen to my final request, I know no one will grant my last wish except you."

Hazel lowered her gaze for a moment, gathering her thoughts and summoning her courage. Then, with a deep breath, she continued, her tone resolute. "So..."

"Let this girl go, please. She is only fifteen."

The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the mocking laughter of the men who surrounded them. Hazel's plea had been met with disdain and ridicule, but she remained undaunted, her spirit unbroken.

As Francisco tilted his head and cautiously approached Hazel, a sense of unease hung in the air. Hazel, however, remained remarkably composed and unafraid. There was an undeniable attraction—a magnetic pull—that seemed to draw Francisco towards her.

Unable to tear his gaze away from her, Francisco moved closer until he stood directly in front of Hazel. He couldn't help but be captivated by her presence, her unwavering courage, and the plea she had made.

Hazel, still looking directly into his eyes, repeated her request. "I am hoping you will fulfill my last request. This little child has no fault."

Instead of turning his attention towards the girl she had spoken of, Francisco reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against Hazel's face. Her arched brows hinted at her surprise, but she made no move to pull away. There was an undeniable tension in the air as their eyes locked—a complex and inexplicable connection between them.

In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only Hazel and Francisco locked in a silent and profound exchange.

However, their intimate moment was abruptly interrupted when a man burst into the room, his voice filled with urgency. "Boss, the police are here."

The words shattered the fragile bubble of tension that had enveloped Hazel and Francisco, pulling them back into the harsh reality of their circumstances.

"We need to leave immediately," the man who had burst into the room urgently declared.

"What? How is that possible?" Another masked man questioned him, his disbelief evident in his voice.

Francisco, torn between the need to depart and his desire to linger with Hazel, stood still for a moment. He reluctantly pulled his hand back from where it had grazed Hazel's face, his piercing blue eyes unable to break free from her gaze.

"Boss, we must leave," one of his men whispered, his voice laced with anxiety and urgency.

Reluctantly, Francisco stepped back, his conflicted emotions etched on his face. Before he took his leave, he turned back to look at Hazel one last time, his longing apparent in his gaze. Hazel's eyes remained locked on his until he left the cabin, disappearing into the unknown.