Chapter 41 — When Power Starts to Bleed
The city was lying.
Amara knew it the moment she opened her eyes.
The ceiling above her was unfamiliar—smooth concrete, faint cracks spidering across its surface like veins. The air smelled faintly of metal and disinfectant, too clean to belong to anything real. Somewhere beyond the walls, a generator hummed steadily, the sound low and constant, like a mechanical heartbeat.
Safehouse.
She lay still, listening.
No gunfire.
No alarms.
No shouting.
Which meant the danger hadn’t passed—it had simply gone quiet.
She sat up slowly, pushing the blanket off her legs. Her body felt tense, coiled, as though it hadn’t truly rested even in sleep. Images from the Council chamber flashed through her mind: faces tightening, voices rising, the sharp silen
