Anais had never driven so fast in her life.
The guttural roar of Leon’s backup SUV shook through her bones as she wove down the unlit coastal road. Cassian sat in the passenger seat, one hand braced on the dash, the other holding a compress to the fresh bruise blooming under his left eye. Leon was in the back seat, phone glued to his ear, cursing under his breath as each call went to voicemail. His fourteen-year-old daughter, Maris, was alone in the safe-house—no phones, no cameras, no alarm. Perfectly hidden. Perfectly isolated.
Now perfectly vulnerable.
Anais gripped the wheel tighter. The night blurred; headlights sliced the fog like fever dreams. “Hold on, Maris,” she whispered, though no one could hear. “Just hold on.”
Cassian’s voice cut through the engine’s growl. “We’re five mi
