Back in Selvas City.
Inside the luxurious building of the Norwish Mafia's port base, most of the lights had already been turned off. But one room remained dimly lit.
Nora Adams sat on the edge of her bed, unable to sleep.
Her room was large, decorated with expensive furniture and polished wooden walls. Anyone who stepped inside would think it belonged to someone living a life of comfort and privilege.
To Nora, however, it felt like a cage. Her eyes were fixed on the small photo frame resting on the bedside table.
The picture inside was old, its edges slightly worn with time. In it, a young woman with gentle eyes was smiling softly, holding a small girl in her arms. The child in the photo had messy hair and an innocent expression, clearly unaware of the harsh world waiting for her back then.
That child was Nora.
Her fingers slowly reached out and touched the edge of the frame.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she spoke quietly.
