TWENTY-THREE
The sun was beginning to set, casting a reddish glow across the horizon as Amara and Rafa quickly packed their things. The air was thick with urgency, their every move rushed, as if time itself was against them. Amara’s mind was spinning. They had to leave. Xander’s reach was vast, and if he had already discovered her location, it was only a matter of time before his men closed in on them. She had no illusions that things would be easy—this would be their fight now. There was no returning to the past, no returning to the life she had known. It was over. “I have a safe house in the next district,” Rafa said, his voice steady but strained. “We’ll go there and figure things out. We need to get you away from here, away from the people who might be watching.” Amara nodded, trying to suppress
- Writer
