“Is this our last meal?” she asked quietly, her voice trembling.
The question hung in the air like a cloud of uncertainty, a question born out of the suffering and loss they had endured. To them, food was no longer a simple necessity; it was a rare gift, something they hadn’t been allowed to enjoy for so long. If it was too much, too good to be true, it could only mean one thing: death.
Sergeant Taylor, who had heard his fair share of questions from the prisoners, was taken aback by the sheer desperation in Yuki’s voice. “No,” he said, his words sincere. “This is not your last meal. It’s breakfast, like any other. And I’m giving it to you because you deserve it.”
The women looked at each other in disbelief. For a moment, no one moved. The silence stretched on as they processed his words. This was not just a meal. It was a moment of humanity that had been stripped from them for so long.
Chapter 3: The Unseen Wounds of War
