Sheriff Tate muttered, “To show us how close they can get.”
I stood there breathing hard, chest burning, muscles coiled, fury simmering like acid under my skin.
Then—
“Nora?”
Her voice.
Small.
Shaking.
Behind me.
I spun.
She was standing just outside the emergency barrier, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wide — not with panic this time, but devastation.
“Nora,” I said softly, stepping toward her.
She didn’t move.
Her voice cracked. “Wolf… I remembered something.”
Every Ranger froze.
My pulse spiked. “What did you remember?”
She swallowed. “The second man. The one in the vents. I know him.”
Cold fear snapped through my spine.
“How?” I whispered.
She hugged herself tighter, shoulders shaking. “From the foster home. He wasn’t the older man.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“He was the boy.”
Every head in the room turned sharply toward her.
Trigger inhaled sharply. “A recruit?”
Saint whispered, “Or a subject.”
Havoc muttered, “Holy hell…”
Nora trembled. “He was older than me by a few years. He didn’t talk, but he watched everything. And I remember… I remember being pulled away from him by that older man. They wouldn’t let us talk. And they said— they said we couldn’t ‘bond.’”
Her voice broke.
Wolf stepped closer. “Nora—”
“They said I had to stay ‘unattached,” she whispered. “Because attachment ruined… outcomes. I couldn’t have friends. Not ever.
My heart shattered.
