The darkness of the locked office felt like a physical weight, pressing the air straight out of my lungs. On the monitors, the digital blinked with numbers.
The sound of tactical boots echoed through the concrete walls.
My mind was still stuck on the closed door. I was thinking of the cold empty look in Aunt Marissa’s eyes. The weight of the betrayal was suffocating. This was the same woman who had tucked me into bed when I was sick. The same woman who had packed my school lunches. The same woman who had taught me how to braid my hair.
She was gone. Just like that. And now, she was standing on the completely opposite side of the battlefield. This meant that every tear last night, every trembling apology—it had all been a beautifully rehearsed script.
"Vienne! Get down!"
Silas’s voice
