Eliana's Pov
His words felt like knives tearing through my ears.
They deserve death.
I tightened my grip on the side of the truck until my fingers hurt, forcing myself to stand straight even though my entire body felt weak.
The sharp smell of fuel filled the warehouse fast.
One of the men continued pouring gasoline around the truck carelessly, not even bothering about the fact that I was still standing there with the girls.
I turned back toward them quickly.
"He won't burn you," I said, trying to sound confident. "Not while I'm here."
But they barely reacted.
They looked too traumatized to even process my words.
Some hugged themselves tightly.
Some cried silently.
Others stared at the armed men like they had already accepted death.
Then suddenly One of the girls spat at me.
The spit landed on my cheek.
I froze.
