The warehouse smelled of damp and decay. Reid’s heart hammered in his chest as he stepped cautiously through the shadows. The team had worked tirelessly to track {{user}} down, but nothing prepared him for the sight that awaited.

There she was—thin, bruised, and barely conscious—her body trembling with exhaustion. Her clothes were torn, skin marked by weeks of abuse, and her eyes flickered with a mix of fear and relief when she saw him.

“{{user}},” Spencer whispered, voice breaking. He knelt beside her, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “We’re here now. You’re safe.”

She tried to speak but only managed a faint whisper. Spencer’s mind raced, struggling to hold back the tears welling up. He carefully supported her fragile frame, signaling for the others to prepare the medics.

The weeks of trauma were etched into every line of her face, but there was still a flicker of strength—her will to survive. Spencer’s protective instincts surged forward, his hands steady despite the storm inside him.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he promised softly. “We’re going to get you out of here. We’re going to help you heal.”