I pressed my hand to my stomach. Maybe it was adrenaline, or that all I'd had since yesterday was leftover takeout and a bottle of water—my nerves had apparently decided food was optional.
Ben cleared his throat. “Security's tight today. Too much foot traffic at the public gate, so we're going in through the service side. Quieter. No press.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“Of course.”
A few turns later, we slipped off the main road. I didn't think much of it at first. Detours happened, especially on big days like this. The city had probably shut down half the streets just to manage the chaos.
But then another left. Then another.
The farther we got from the crowd, the quieter it became.
I leaned forward, my eyes on the window. These streets didn't look familiar. There were no signs pointing toward the stadium, no vendors selling overpriced hot dogs. Just gray walls and chain link fences and the kind of industrial corners most people drove past without a second glance.
“You said this was a security reroute?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
Ben didn't flinch. “Yeah. Stadium ops confirmed it this morning. We're bypassing the main gates and heading straight to the lower-level entrance.”
He was calm, two hands on the wheel, everything about him screaming professional competence.
But outside, the city was gone, replaced with concrete buildings that looked the same and a silence that felt wrong.
I sat back. We were close. We'd round a corner any second, and there it would be.
“We're almost there,” Ben said, eyes on the road. “Don't worry.”
I nodded even though he wasn't looking.
The SUV slowed as we approached a fenced-off lot. In the middle of it sat a warehouse. No markings. No security guards. No sign of anything at all, really.
Definitely not the stadium.
“Ben?” I asked, and I could hear the shift in my voice.
He didn't answer.
The tires crunched over gravel, the sound too loud in the sudden quiet. The lot stretched empty in every direction, not another car in sight, not another person. Just us and a building that looked like it had been forgotten by the world.
I sat forward. “Where are we?”
Ben put the vehicle in park and turned off the engine.
Then, slowly, he twisted around in his seat.
His sunglasses stayed on. His expression didn't change. But something in the air shifted, and I realized with a clarity that made my stomach drop that I'd been reading this all wrong.
The door creaked open beside me.
Before I could register what was happening, before I could even think to be afraid, someone grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the car.
A sharp blow landed against my head.
“You've been asking the wrong questions, Ellie.”
Then, everything slipped into darkness.
FORTY-EIGHT
