Chapter 7: MorristuTHE ENFORCERS’ BOOTS thunder closer. Shadows in the distance. They’ll turn the corner any moment and see me. I can’t be caught like this.
I dive for the nearest door. It’s all I can do to hold my breath and jam my hand against frame. With my fingers softening the door’s fall, the latch can’t click shut and give me away. The boots pound closer, closer . . .
“Wait out here,” the enforcer, Serovate, says, his voice clear and sharp just on the other side of the door.
My lungs ache with the urge to gasp for air, but it’s not safe. I swallow hard at the dark smears my glove leaves on the doorjamb, and look down in horror at a trail of smudged footprints.
“That’s no good,” the inspector mutters, rustling away further again. I clamp my lips shut and try not to moan, but he d
