The first thing Linda did the next morning was tear the silk sheets off her bed.
She needed clarity. Not comfort.
She folded them neatly and shoved them into the closet. No more pretending she belonged here.
Today, she would start fighting back.
—
The library was massive—two floors, spiral stairs, books arranged like weapons. Linda sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through titles:
*Trauma and Memory Recovery.*
*Strategic Psychology in High-Stress Environments.*
*Architectural Engineering: Fortress Design.*
She didn't understand everything, but she devoured the pages like they were survival manuals.
From the window, she counted the guards rotating through the courtyard below.
Three men. Four paths. Seventeen seconds between shifts.
She scribbled everything in her notebook.
