Morning comes too soon.
I’m exhausted, running on maybe two hours of sleep, when Maria arrives with breakfast. But today she does something different. As she sets down the tray, she presses a small note into my hand.
“From Dominic,” she whispers, so quiet I almost miss it. Then she’s gone.
I unfold the note carefully.
“Library. Noon. We need to talk.”
I look at the clock. Three hours.
The morning drags. I shower, dress in something simple but put-together. If I’m going to meet Dominic, I need to look composed, not like someone who snuck out in the middle of the night to meet her fugitive brother.
At eleven fifty-five, I test my door. Unlocked.
Interesting.
The guard outside doesn’t stop me when I step into the hallway. Just nods, like he’s been told to let me pass. I make my way t
