With a nod, she turned the knob, and the door swung open to reveal a small, dimly lit room. The sight that met Morales’s eyes was both shocking and heartbreaking. The room was sparsely furnished, with a thin mattress on the floor and a single, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. More disturbingly, there were chains—thick, iron chains—bolted to the wall near the mattress, their presence a grim testament to the reality Jimena had hinted at.

“We sleep here,” Jimena said, her voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might cause the room to come alive with its own horrors.