Night falls with agonizing slowness, each hour stretching as I help with dinner, evening activities, and finally bedtime routines for the shelter's eight current residents. Miranda's room is down the hall from mine, her door closed tightly with a chair wedged beneath the handle—another habit I recognize from my own precautions.
The shelter grows quiet around eleven, only the night staff member—a former military woman named Helen—remaining awake downstairs. I've changed into borrowed pajamas but remain fully alert, sitting on the edge of the guest bed with my phone beside me.
No further sightings of the suspicious sedan have occurred, and a discreet text from Zip confirmed that he and Hustler are maintaining surveillance from an apartment across the street. Perhaps my concerns were overblown, trauma painting threats where none exist.
Just as this thought crosses my mind, the power cuts out.
Darkness engulfs the shelter, the sudden absence of the building's gentle hum creating an eerie silence. I'm on my feet instantly, phone in hand, moving toward the door before conscious thought can form.
Helen's voice carries up the stairs. "Everyone stay calm! Backup generator should kick in?—"
The backup lights flicker on, casting the hallway in dim, unearthly glow. Emergency protocol, I remember Maggie explaining. Essential lights only, automatically triggering a silent alarm to police.
But police response times can be measured in minutes. Professional attackers work in seconds.
I text Falcon quickly: Power cut. Possible breach. Moving to Miranda's room.
His response comes instantly: Teams moving in. 3 minutes. Stay hidden.
Three minutes. An eternity in a crisis.
I slip into the hallway, moving silently on bare feet as Helen's voice continues reassuring residents from the main floor. Miranda's door is still closed, chair in place. Good.
A sound from the rear of the building freezes me in place—the subtle scrape of a window being forced. Not the front where Helen stands guard. Not where Zip and Hustler are watching. The back, where the property meets dense woods.
Without hesitation, I move to Miranda's door, removing the chair and knocking softly. "Miranda, it's Cara. Let me in."
Seconds pass before the lock clicks and the door opens just enough for me to slip inside. Miranda stands pressed against the wall, a makeshift weapon—a sharpened piece of metal that might once have been part of a bed frame—clutched in her trembling hand.
"They're here," she whispers, confirming my fears. "Aren't they?"
"Maybe," I admit, no time for comforting lies. "But so is help. We need to barricade the door and stay quiet."
We work quickly, pushing a dresser against the door, then retreat to the farthest corner of the room. Miranda's breathing comes in shallow gasps that she struggles to control.
"I knew they'd find me," she murmurs. "They always do."
"Not this time," I promise, though my own heart hammers against my ribs. I check my phone—two minutes until Falcon's team arrives. We just need to hold out.
A scream from downstairs shatters the tense silence, followed by a heavy thud. Helen. My blood runs cold at the implications.
"Bathroom," I whisper urgently, pulling Miranda toward the adjoining door. "Lock yourself in."
"What about you?" she asks, eyes wide with terror.
"I'll slow them down." I press my phone into her hand. "If anyone but me tries to enter, call the number labeled 'F.' Tell them exactly where you are."
The bathroom door closes behind her just as heavy footsteps sound in the hallway. Methodical, unhurried. Whoever they sent knows exactly where their target is and feels no rush.
I scan the room for weapons, settling on a lamp with a heavy ceramic base. Positioning myself beside the door, I grip it tightly, adrenaline sharpening my senses to painful clarity.
The dresser we positioned shifts slightly as someone tests the door. Then silence, followed by three precise taps.
"Security check," calls a male voice. "Everything okay in there?"
An amateur might have been fooled. I remain silent, adjusting my grip on the lamp.
"Police responding to the alarm," the voice tries again. "Need to evacuate the building."
