The world didn’t come back all at once. It returned in jagged, painful fragments: the smell of ozone, the hum of a pressurized cabin, and a throbbing ache in my neck where the dart had struck.
I tried to move my hands, but they were bound tightly to the arms of a cold, metal chair. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. This wasn't the silk lined prison of Isaac’s mansion, and it wasn't the damp hold of the freighter. This place felt sterile. It felt like the inside of a computer efficient, silent, and devoid of any human warmth.
"Christine Vance. Investigator. Code breaker. The woman who refuses to stay dead."
The voice was distorted, coming through a speaker somewhere above me. It didn't have Isaac’s arrogance; it had something worse complete indifference.
"Where is R
