The cold hit me first. I was on bare feet. I didn't even realize it until we were already running, the alley gravel biting into my soles.
Anya was ahead of me, her duffel bag bouncing against her hip. She was fast for someone supposedly pregnant. Of course. The suit. It was all fake. I still couldn't wrap my head around it.
Behind us, the alarm was still screaming. Marcus's voice echoed from inside, sharp and furious. I couldn't make out the words but the tone was clear. He was coming.
"THIS WAY!" Anya grabbed my wrist and yanked me down a side street. My lungs were already burning. I'd been "sick" for months, even if it was fake, my body was weak from pretending, from stress and from not eating.
We ran past dumpsters and delivery trucks. My feet were bleeding now, I could feel it, wet
