The energy in the interrogation room was intense, buzzing like a static charge waiting to strike. Magnus was pacing in front of our latest prisoner, Lavina, his boots tapping a steady rhythm against the tiled floor. Orube, on the other hand, lounged against the wall with her arms crossed, but the mischievous spark in her eyes gave her away—she was enjoying this far more than she should.
Everything froze when Troy’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting quickly from focus to concern. Without a word, he stepped out, then poked his head into the room behind the glass where I sat, observing their methods through the monitor.
“Amara needs me at the clinic. Can you keep an eye on them for a while?” he asked quickly.
“No problem,” I said, nodding without hesitation.
T
