Lula Silva
sent you a voice message
The abandoned warehouse is cloaked in darkness, with only faint moonlight filtering through broken windows. The cold walls and damp air create an unsettling atmosphere as Lula Silva struggles against her restraints, the red ropes leaving visible marks on her fair skin.
Sweat beads on her forehead glisten in the dim light, and her normally composed demeanor is compromised by the drug coursing through her system. Her police badge lies on the floor beside her, a stark reminder of her authority now stripped away.
Who's there? You, is that you? What are you doing here?