The next night, Amber walked into the club, her movements measured and careful. She was dressed in a long-sleeved dress, the fabric hiding the evidence of the abuse that had been inflicted on her. Despite her attempt to cover up the bruises, the effort was in vain—her gaunt frame and pallor made it clear that she was unwell.
Each step was agony for Amber, the pain surging through her body with every movement. She had taken some painkiller pills before coming to work, hoping they would ease the pain, but they seemed to make little difference. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself forward, silently vowing not to let anyone see her weakness. But it was difficult, each small step sending a shockwave of pain through her limbs. She cursed silently, wondering how she would make it through the night like this.