MAYA'S POV
Maya wakes to sunlight and panic.
For a moment, she doesn't know where she is. The room is wrong—too bright, too open, the bed too soft. There's no biometric lock on the door, no camera in the corner, no schedule telling her when to wake and dress and prepare.
No one telling her what to be.
The panic intensifies. She should be getting ready. Should be showering, doing her makeup, selecting the right outfit. If she's not ready when they come—
Then memory crashes back. The woman in the air vent. Elara. Her sister. The escape through darkness and smoke and gunfire.
You're out. You're safe.
Maya's hands shake as she sits up. Safe. The word feels foreign, dangerous. Because safety is an illusion. They always find you. Always take you back.
The door opens, and Maya flinches, p
