Lila's POV
I didn't even bother showering.
That note sat burning a hole through my brain the entire drive over, and by the time I glanced at the clock and realized I had maybe twenty minutes to get my ass to the track before the mandatory bike drop-off deadline passed, showering became the least of my problems. I yanked on the first pair of leggings I found, threw my hair up into a messy knot, didn't even bother with makeup, and was out the door with my jacket half-zipped before I'd fully processed what I was doing.
The rule was simple, and non-negotiable: personal bikes had to be dropped off at the hideout by midnight the night before, so the Reapers' mechanic could check for illegal boosts, unauthorized modifications, anything that might tip the scales unfairly. Hugo had delivered min
