I’m third.
Always third.
But not tonight.
Because something in my chest feels like it’s splitting open.Something sharp, something wrong.Something that doesn’t feel like worry—
It feels likefear.
Real fear.
Not the kind you joke through.
Not the kind you swallow.
The kind that makes your vision tunnel.
By the time I hit the third floor landing, Atlas is already at Wren’s door, chest heaving, hand wrapped around the knob.
“It’s unlocked,” he growls.
Unlocked?
No.
No way.
She locked it.We all watched her lock it.We heard the bolts scrape.
My skin goes cold.
Kael grabs Atlas’s wrist, stopping him from throwing the door open blindly.“Wait.”
I don’t wait.
I move beside them, heart pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to break free.
“WREN!”I yell.
No answer.
“Wren, please—” My voice cracks.“Say something.”
And then—
Her voice.
Faint.
Shaking.
“I’m here!”
Everything in me snaps.
“Move!”I shout.
Atlas doesn’t have to be told twice.
