“You’re safe,” she says, too quickly. “You’re in a private medical facility. Off-grid.”
I laugh once. It’s not pretty. “That sounds a lot like somewhere I can’t leave.”
“Temporarily,” she corrects. “Until things settle.”
I sit up slowly. The world doesn’t spin, but my neck throbs like a dull reminder.
“The surgeon?” I ask.
“Handled it cleanly. No complications.”
“So…the chip’s gone?”
“Gone,” she says. “Every trace.”
“And…the pregnancy?”
“Completely fine.”
I run my tongue along the inside of my cheek, tasting the lie before she even finishes saying it. “You’re a terrible liar, Doctor.”
She flinches. Just a small twitch around her mouth, but enough.
“It’s sorted now,” she says, quieter. “And you asked me for help. You said you couldn’t keep the baby there. You said Seytan would never let you go.”
I laugh once. “She wouldn’t. She doesn’t like losing her toys.”
“She would’ve killed you.”
“She tried,” I remind her. “More than once.”
The silence that follows is sharp enough to cut with. Callaway perches on the edge of the bed like she’s approaching a wounded animal.
“You’re safe now,” she says. “She doesn’t know where we are.”
I tilt my head, studying her. “You’re still afraid of her.”
“I’d be stupid not to be.”
“Then you didn’t come here for me,” I say. “You came here to hide.”
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to.
I let my gaze drift around the room – too sterile, too staged. “Who else knows I’m here?”
“No one outside the team.”
“The team,” I echo. “You mean the surgeon and whoever passed him the scalpel while you pretended to monitor my vitals.”
“They were necessary.”
“Names?”
She hesitates. “You don’t need to know that.”
I smile, slow and thin. “Then make sure they stay off my radar.”
“Kayla—”
