Paul’s POV
Each of us buried our own thoughts as we gathered in the little safe home under the flickering low light. The weight of all we had gone through, and unspoken worries permeated the quiet between us. Jackson leaned against the wall, his breath still labouring from our little escape, while Becky sat next to him, her face pulled with concern.
The designs, the ideas—what we had discovered in The Broker's warehouse—kept me from sleeping. They were promises of anarchy, the sort that might rip everything apart, not only threats. I looked at Zara, seated by herself in the corner, her eyes locked on the floor. She had deceived us, but she had also helped us flee. However, I knew one thing: we couldn't afford to rely on her blindly once more—where we stood now was unknown.
"We need a pl
