The knock hit the door like a gunshot—three brutal beats that shattered the quiet. It snapped me out of the hot fog of the shower; steam still clung to my skin and the towel hung uselessly at my waist as I stumbled toward the door.
I shouldn’t have expected anyone. Not at this hour. Not after everything. But when I pulled the latch and swung it open, the corridor filled with men—twelve of them, all black suits and hard angles. The air slithered cold against my wet skin.
They looked like they’d been carved out of the night. Faces like masks, eyes flat and patient. Some wore scars that cut lines through expression; others had tattoos that hinted at lives I’d rather not imagine. I felt small. Exposed.
A scar red as a lightning bolt across one man’s jaw stepped forward. He smiled without hu
