The world split open with the sound of screeching steel and rushing air.
One moment, we were in motion. Then came the feeling of weightlessness. A breathless, terrifying pause. Like the universe held its breath.
And then we fell.
My scream caught in my throat, sharp and silent, as the horizon tilted and the glittering Intracoastal Waterway rushed up to meet us. Charlie’s hand reached for mine, his fingers grazing my skin with desperate warmth, but that comfort couldn’t last.
The impact with the water was a violent, jarring slam. It felt like crashing through glass into another world. My lungs seized. The seatbelt bit deep into my chest. Water exploded through every seam, swallowing the inside of the vehicle in seconds.
Darkness flooded in, suffocating, wrapping me in its embrace.
Oh, my God. This is the end.
Terror clawed at my chest,raw and primal, as the car sank into the water’s depths. I didn’t know how deep it was here, but my mind couldn’t process that information. Not when my life was flashing before my eyes.
Bubbles streamed past my face, silver and frantic. My lungs burned, begging for air I couldn’t give them, and my heart thundered, a wild, trapped thing.
Charlie twisted toward me, blood blooming at his temple, eyes desperate. He reached for me, fumbled for the seatbelt. I clawed at mine, nails breaking, panic blinding me as the water pressed tighter, whispering I’d never surface again. Water surged past my collarbones, into my ears, my mouth. I gasped reflexively and choked.
I wasn’t ready to die. Not like this.
I’d been Sloane Carrington—spoiled, untouchable, curated to perfection—but now I was just a girl, drowning in fear and regret, clawing for one more chance to fight.
Then the window shattered.
Shadows moved outside, swift and deliberate, like predators circling. My pulse spiked, hope and dread tangling as I pressed my palms against the doorframe. Were they Charlie’s brothers? Dominion’s men, come to pull us from this nightmare?
Hands broke through the water, gloved and unyielding, wrenching the door open with a metallic screech. I flinched, my body curling inward, but they weren’t gentle—they seized my arms, dragging me into the abyss. My scream bubbled uselessly, water flooding my mouth as I thrashed, my legs kicking against nothing.
What the hell is happening? I need air. Right now.
A scuba mask was shoved over my face, the seal rough on my skin, and oxygen flooded my lungs, sharp and chemical. I gasped, choking on the sudden air, my vision blurring as the mask fogged with my ragged breaths. I bit down. It didn’tmatter. Someone squeezed my jaw open. A regulator jammed between my teeth.
Who were they?
My mind screamed the question, but my body was theirs, limp and trembling as they hauled me through the water. Their wetsuits gleamed like oil, their movements precise, mechanical. Almost as if they’d done this a hundred times before.
Department 77. It had to be.
Marshall’s trap hadn’t ended with the crash—they’d been waiting, lurking in the depths like sharks scenting blood. My stomach twisted, nausea rising as I realized they’d planned this, every second choreographed to steal me from Charlie, from safety, from the life I’d just begun to claim.
I inhaled—salt and rubber and panic—and everything went black.
Flashes. That’s all I remembered next. Like shards of broken dreams.
Lights above me, hazy and flickering. Pressure on my ribs. Someone counting. My name, distorted through water and static.
Then—Charlie. His voice calling me from far away. Or maybe it wasn’t his voice at all. Maybe it was just the memory of him, echoing in the hollow chamber where my heart used to be.
I woke on a sofa, soft but unfamiliar, every muscle aching, my head pounding like the tide against stone.
My first thought—before I could blink, before I could breathe—was that I didn’t want to wake up if Charlie wasn’t in this world.
Not ever.
The terror of that possibility hit harder than the crash. Harder than the water that had swallowed me whole. A silent scream bloomed in my chest. What if he hadn’t made it? What if he’d gone down with the car, trapped and broken and alone?
A sob crawled up my throat but didn’t make it out. I pressed a hand to my heart like I could feel for him there—like his pulse might echo inside mine.
