(NIKOLAI)
I had no idea how long I had been imprisoned in the Sakharov dungeon.
Days? Weeks? Time had no meaning anymore as I drifted in and out of consciousness.
My entire body screamed in pain. I was fairly certain my left lung was punctured, which could happen when one's ribs were broken like mine. I couldn't hold my head up without getting dizzy. My right shoulder was dislocated, as was my left knee. Every breath was agony.
But I never broke.
Somehow I had endured Sergio's cruelty. I thought of my wife and children, my family. I thought of the beach in Donetsk, my home there that I loved so much. I thought of my favorite places, my favorite meals— anything that allowed me to escape this nightmare, if only in my own mind.
I just had to keep my mouth shut and survive.
