The sound of the lock sliding into place echoed like a gunshot.
I froze, my breath fogging in the cold air. The flashlight beam jittered as Noah swung it toward the door, rattling the handle hard, but nothing. It was solid steel.
“She locked us in,” I whispered, my voice too thin.
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his forearm tight as he yanked again. “Vivienne.” He spat the name like a curse, then turned, sweeping the light across the cavernous space.
The warehouse seemed even bigger now, shadows stretching long and heavy. Every creak and drip sounded closer, sharper, like something circling just beyond the light.
“Noah,” I said, forcing calm into my tone, “panicking won’t get us out.”
His gaze snapped to mine. Fury burned there, but underneath it something more fragile, Betrayal.
