Twenty-four hours is a generous amount of time.
It’s long enough to plan.
Long enough to panic.
Long enough to believe you still have choices.
By the time we left the restaurant, I already knew that was the lie they wanted me to believe.
The car ride home was silent—not strained, not awkward. Focused. Alexander drove with both hands on the wheel, eyes forward, posture controlled in a way I recognized now as restraint under pressure. He wasn’t spiraling. He was bracing.
Elena hadn’t followed us.
She wouldn’t. Whatever Director Hale had done to her in that room was enough to remind her of her place—and how quickly it could be erased.
“They won’t wait the full twenty-four hours,” I said quietly.
Alexander didn’t glance at me. “No. They’re watching what we do inside it.”
“They want t
