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Not empty.
Not clear.
Wrong.
A body is down near the far wall.
One of ours.
Unconscious.
Clean.
Precise.
No struggle.
No noise.
My chest tightens.
Not breaking.
Never breaking.
But it’s there.
“Door,” Logan says.
I’m already ahead of him.
Already there.
Already reaching—
And something inside meknows.
This is the moment.
The one he needed.
The one Logan warned about.
One second.
One choice.
One mistake.
My hand hesitates—
Just for a fraction.
Because if this is wrong—
If this is another layer—
If opening that door is exactly what he wants—
