The old place was quiet on the surface, a deceptive stillness blanketing the harsh tension brewing inside. From their room, Amara and Sera sat curled together, straining their ears. The wind outside whistled through the gaps in the wooden panels, but beneath it, muffled voices rose in agitation.
Amara pressed her ear closer to the door.
"Are they arguing again?" Sera whispered.
Amara nodded silently, then motioned for her to stay quiet.
In the front room, the argument was growing louder.
"What the hell did you do?!" snarled one of the men—a rough voice, someone who had been with them since the first warehouse.
"Relax," came the response, cool and defiant. "I just made a call."
"You called the father? With a burner phone? Are you insane?! That wasn’t part of the damn plan!"
The tens
