CHAPTER 90
Seventy-two hours had bled into a singular, agonizing blur since the forest had turned into a graveyard of fire and betrayal. It had been three days since the world went dark—three days since the Organization branded Lauren a traitor and left the Commander for dead amidst the smoldering ash of the Kazlov estate.
In that time, the blood on the forest floor had dried, the dossiers had been scrubbed, and the lies had been solidified into history. For those who survived, the clock was no longer ticking toward a rescue; it was counting down the seconds of a new, cold reality.
Consciousness did not come all at once. It arrived as a series of agonizing sensations: the rhythmic hum of a pressurized cabin, the sharp, medicinal sting of antiseptic, and a deep, throbbing ache that seem
