Zara Fen POV
The SUV smelled of leather, Silas’s sandalwood cologne, and the metallic tang of pure, unadulterated dread. Outside, the world was a blurred smear of grey and black as we tore through the lower mountain passes. Every bump in the road made my teeth jar, but I barely felt it. My entire universe had shrunk to the size of the black glass screen in my hand.
I hit the call button for the twentieth time.
“The subscriber you are trying to reach is out of coverage range or—”
I cut it off, the robotic voice making me want to scream. I threw the phone onto the seat next to me. "Still nothing. Just the same recording."
"Zara, breathe," Silas said. He didn't look away from the road, his hands gripped at ten and two on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. He was driving with a focus
