CHAPTER 23
The morning sun was too bright.
It shouldn’t have been. It should’ve been soft—gentle and quiet like the kind that wrapped sleepy homes in gold. But instead, it pierced through the curtains like a blade, like it had come to bear witness to a public execution.
And what followed... was noise.
A thud. Then a crash. Then unfamiliar shouting—rough, rushed, and entirely out of place.
Eleanor bolted upright in bed, her chest tight, heart hammering.
A second later, came banging on the front door. Not knocking. Not polite. The kind that rattled the frame and shook the hallway.
She threw on a robe and flew down the stairs, feet cold against the hardwood, hands still clumsy with sleep. Her fingers fumbled at the lock before she yanked the door open—
And froze.
Two government-unifo
