My mind races, cycling through options that don’t exist. I could wait for Luka to come back, but when will that be? An hour? Two? By then, Hope could be gone forever. I could call the police, but Hope made it painfully clear that involving anyone, even Luka, would mean her death. The threat sits in my chest like ice. I promised Luka I would never hide anything from him again, not after everything I already kept from him, and thatpromise has been echoing in the back of my mind since the moment I heard Hope’s voice. He would know how to handle this. He would know how to make it look as if I went alone while still finding a way to protect me and get her out alive. But I have no idea where he went or how to reach him, and every minute I lose searching for him is a minute she doesn’t have.
The only option left is the one that terrifies me most. I go alone. I will walk into whatever trap they have set, praying I can get Hope out before it closes around us both.
My hand moves to my stomach, pressing against the fabric of my sweater. The baby. I’m carrying a life that depends on me making the right choice. But how can I choose between my sister and my child? How can I weigh one life against another when both are pieces of my heart?
I close my eyes and see Hope's face on the video call. Her tears. Her fear. The way her voice broke around my name. She’s my little sister. She’s the only family I have left who chose to stay, who didn’t walk away, betray me, or disappear into a world I can’t follow. If I let her die because I was too afraid to act, I’ll never forgive myself. And if I die trying to save her, at least we’ll be together.
The decision solidifies in my mind, hard and unyielding. I’ll go. I’ll walk into that warehouse and face whatever waits for me there. I’d rather die with Hope than live in a world where I abandoned her.
I turn and run back to the guest suite, my feet pounding against the hardwood. It waits at the end of the hall, the door still open, the firelight spilling into the corridor. I grab my jacket from the chair and pull it on, my fingers fumbling with the zipper. Myshoes sit by the bed, and I shove my feet into them without bothering to tie the laces properly.
I have to leave a message. Luka needs to know where I went, even if it’s too late for him to help me. I grab a pen from the desk and a piece of stationery embossed with the Barinov crest. My hand shakes as I press the pen to the paper.
I’m sorry. I have to save Hope. It’s an old warehouse near the docks marked number three. The building has a green door on the south side. Please find me.
The words look inadequate, too small to carry the enormity of what I’m about to do. But there’s no time to write more. I fold the note and leave it on the pillow where he’ll see it.
I grab my phone and shove it into my pocket, then glance around the room one last time. The tea on the nightstand has gone cold, steam no longer rising from the cup. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, throwing shadows across the walls. This place felt like a prison earlier, but now it feels like safety I’m choosing to leave behind.
I step into the hallway and close the door behind me. My legs carry me forward, down the corridor, past the art, the statues, and the windows overlooking the water. I move quickly, my breath coming fast, and my heart hammering a rhythm that matches my footsteps.
The main entry is just ahead. A maid crosses through with a tray, disappearing into the kitchen. A guard stands near the front door, his posture relaxed, and his attention on his phone.
I slow as I approach, forcing my steps to stay casual. I can’t let him sense the panic crawling through my spine or give him even the smallest excuse to hold me here.
“I’m going for a walk,” I announce, forcing my voice to stay level. “Just to clear my head.”
He glances up, his eyes sweeping over my face and then to the door. “Do you want me to accompany you?”
“No,” I reply quickly, then soften my tone. “I just need a few minutes alone. I’ll stay on the grounds.”
He hesitates, his training warring with his instinct to defer to someone Luka clearly values. Finally, he nods. “Stay within the perimeter. I’ll let the gate know you are walking.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, already moving past him.
The front door opens easily under my hand. Cold air rushes in, biting at my cheeks and neck. I step outside and pull the door closed behind me, cutting off the warmth and light of the house.
The driveway stretches before me, long and winding, lined with trees that rustle in the wind. Security lights glow at intervals, laying soft pools of white across the pavement. I walk quickly, my breath misting in the cold, my hands buried deep in my pockets.
But I don’t head for the main gate.
Instead, I slip off the drive where the tree line thickens, following the narrow service path I noticed once when Vega pulled me toward the staff wing. It winds behind the garages and loading bay, quiet now, empty, forgotten in the dark. The estate’s security is tight around the perimeter, but this section relies more on routine than vigilance.
The small utility gate blends into the fence, just another matte-black panel unless you know where to look. A dim exterior light sputters over the keypad, buzzing faintly in the cold.
I press my hand against the handle, and it gives just slightly. Not open… just loose enough to make my pulse jump. I push a little harder, and the door eases inward with a soft scrape. The magnetic lock didn’t fully engage. Someone let it swing shut without checking the seal, leaving a sliver of space that you’d never notice unless you were desperate enough to test every exit.
Luck. Or a crack the universe left just wide enough for me.
I slip through before I can second-guess myself. The door whispers closed behind me, clicking into place as if it had never been open at all. Outside, the night is darker and colder, the pavement uneven where the city has long stopped trying to fix it. My shoes scrape against the rough surface as I start down the road, the estate shrinking behind me with every step.
I pull out my phone and open the rideshare app. My fingers shake as I type the address Hope gave me. The warehouse near the docks. Green door on the south side. The app calculates the route and tells me a car will arrive in three minutes.
I walk down the road, away from the gate, my arms wrapped around myself against the cold. The trees close in on either side, their branches bare and skeletal against the night sky. Headlights appear in the distance, growing brighter as the car approaches.
The vehicle slows and pulls to a stop beside me. The driver leans over, peering through the passenger window. “Sage?”
“Yes,” I confirm, opening the door and sliding into the backseat.
