F R E Y A’S P O V
Groggily, I groaned and squinted at the bright display of my phone, cutting through the peaceful oblivion of sleep. The shrill ring pierced the tranquility of my bedroom, forcing me to reluctantly abandon the remnants of my dreams. My mind was clouded with sleep as I fumbled for the device, my hand searching blindly in the dimly lit room. Finally grasping it, I brought the phone to my ear, still struggling to shake off the grogginess that clung to my thoughts.
As I glanced at the screen, the name "Frank" flashed before my bleary eyes, instantly jolting me awake. Frank was a high-ranking agent at the AVH. His call at such an hour could only mean one thing—trouble.
"What's going on, Frank?" I asked, my voice laced with a mix of concern and urgency.
"Freya, we have
