Lisa’s POV
Damon was already waiting by the car like some dark, brooding chauffeur of doom. Ronan had that tight, dangerous calm about him, the kind that made my chest knot up worse because if he looked like a ticking time bomb, then we were in real trouble.
And me? I was hugging Heri’s strawberry cake box like it was a holy relic. Don’t judge me. Stress-snacking is a coping mechanism.
“Alright,” I muttered under my breath, climbing into the backseat with Heri. “Operation Escape-Tracker is a go. Buckle up, brain, you got this.”
Heri gave me a weird look but didn’t say anything, just curled closer to me as Ronan slid in beside us. Damon got in up front, already fiddling with his phone.
The car purred to life, smooth and quiet, but the air inside was so heavy it could’ve smothered a rhi
