Hector Grant and his men opened one of the iron cages and brought out the person inside.
It was a young boy. Estimating by his height, he was probably eight or nine years old. However, he was severely emaciated—nothing but skin and bones. Sierra Sullivan figured he couldn't even weigh forty pounds. His arms and thighs were covered in bite marks where flesh had been torn away, leaving his skin pitted and scarred.
When he was first brought out, his body trembled uncontrollably. His expression was fierce, yet his eyes were filled with terror. He even tried to struggle and escape, but before anyone could stop him, he subdued himself. Just looking at his state was enough to guess what he had been through.
Nathan Thorne stepped forward and gently patted the boy's shoulder, his voice softening considerably. "Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you. I'm here to save you."
