(LANCE )
The penthouse living room was bathed in the soft amber glow of late afternoon sun, turning the marble floors into warm pools of light. The ankle monitor on my leg gave its familiar soft chime with every measured step I took near the windows, a constant electronic reminder that my world now had strict, invisible walls. The air carried the comforting scents of fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen, warm bread from the monitored oven, and the faint floral trace of Eliona’s tea as she sat at the dining table reviewing compliance documents with quiet focus.
She looked up as I approached, her hazel-green eyes steady despite the lingering shadows of everything we had survived. The bruise on her cheek had faded completely, but the memory of her hooded and bound still lived in the protecti
