The SUV screeched to a halt outside the dimly lit safehouse, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Rain tapped furiously on the roof like a ticking clock none of them could ignore. Cassian barely waited for the engine to cut before stepping out, his coat catching in the door as if even it were trying to hold him back.
Anais followed close behind, quiet, pale, clutching her shoulder like she was trying to anchor herself in her own body. The silence between them was weighty—not cold, but raw. There was nothing left to say that hadn’t already been said in the car, and even that had been filled with clipped sentences and glances that refused to meet.
Inside, Maris was already seated on the floor near the corner, legs crossed, eyes flicking between them. She hadn’t spoken since they pulled her
