Cyril
I couldn’t breathe. The dim, unfamiliar room pressed against me, thick with the scent of dust and something faintly metallic. My mind raced, recalling every fragment of the notes, every shadow I had glimpsed, every moment I had felt someone watching me.
I can’t panic. I can’t let fear control me, I told myself, biting back the rising tremor in my chest. Alan didn’t know. He couldn’t know. He would… he would overreact.
He would throw himself into a storm to rescue me, and that storm could put me in even more danger. I had to do this alone.
Slowly, carefully, I shifted, testing the restraints—or what I hoped were loose bindings around my wrists. My fingers grazed the rope, pulling slightly. The knots were tight, but not impossible.
Focus, Cyril. Just focus.
I remembered the fain
