Chapter 10: The Shadow Cabinet
Gemma
The vibration of the helicopter usually lulls me into a trance, but today it feels like a physical assault. We are suspended between a burning past and an invisible future. I stare at the small, rhythmic pulse of the red light on the cabin floor. It’s tucked neatly under the leather piping of the passenger seat—professional, discreet, and definitely not Silas’s style.
Silas was a sledgehammer; this is a scalpel.
"Cassian," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the thump of the rotors. I point toward the floor.
He follows my gaze. His entire body goes rigid. He doesn't reach for it. He doesn't move. He simply stares at the blinking light with a hollow expression that scares me more than the mercenaries did.
"That’s a Vesper-class relay," he says,
