The knock came again.
Not loud this time. Not urgent. But deliberate....three slow taps, spaced evenly, as if whoever stood outside had all the time in the world.
Ariana froze. The sound seemed to crawl under her skin, prickling every nerve. She hugged herself tighter, wishing she could peel the silence back and prove it was nothing more than her imagination. But Damian’s rigid stance near the window told her otherwise.
“They’re back,” he muttered, voice low and sharp.
Ariana’s throat tightened. “You said they wouldn’t try again tonight.”
“I said I hoped they wouldn’t.” His hand hovered over his holster, every muscle drawn taut. “But hope’s a luxury we don’t have.”
Her pulse hammered. “So what now? Do we… do we call the police? Or maybe your mysterious spy hotline?”
The faintest twi
