She patted Maren’s cheek. “Capisce?”
A broken whimper answered her, but Maren’s fear faded quickly. What replaced it was worse—a promise.
She could have killed Maren. But corpses couldn’t repay favors.
Audrey straightened, scanning the yard. No witnesses, and Maren was down. The yard was empty, but the watchtowers weren’t. Still, for the first time in weeks, Audrey had an opportunity, and she couldn’t waste this moment. Audrey snatched Maren’s headscarf and fled.
Outside, wind howled across the courtyard, whipping sand into eyes and lungs. Audrey wrapped the scarf over her head, hiding her telltale curls. She moved through the busy courtyard,indistinguishable from the others. For once, the fact that she looked like every other Voírían woman worked in her favor.
She searched the perimeter for weaknesses. Powers she didn’t know guarded the exits. She wasn’t ready to tear minds apart or deflect bullets or ignite bodies.
Not yet. But she would be. Soon.
First, she needed something real: a route, a weakness, a name—anything that could get her to Cary before Ryker did. If Ryker was hedging his bets and looking for her sister behind her back, then Audrey was done surviving this place one day at a time. She was going to find her sister and build a life neither of them had ever been given.
Felix reclined against the wall, cigarette between his fingers. For once, luck was on her side. She smiled slowly and walked toward him. He lifted his head at her approach. Something on his face made her stop.
“Trouble again?” Felix asked, flicking ash into the dirt.
“Depends,” Audrey said, forcing lightness she didn’t feel. “You planning to be helpful, or just pretty with a cigarette?”
Felix snorted and pushed off the wall. He looked less armed than usual—no visible weapon, scarf loose, one sleeve rolled up—and it relaxed her.
He glanced toward the yard where Maren still hadn’t emerged, then back at Audrey. “You look like shit,” he said. “Come inside.”
She should have kept walking. Should have taken the opening while the yard was thinly watched and Maren was down. But her nerves were flayed raw, her thoughts screaming over one another, and Felix was the only person in this place who ever spoke to her like she wasn’t already halfway to the grave.
His room smelled like cigarettes and fabric softener. Contraband lived there openly: a mirror, lines of glitteringpowder, a little stack of pills in mismatched colors, a flask on the floor. Felix shut the door, leaned against it, and watched her clock the setup.
“You want out of her head for a bit?” he asked. “I can help.”
Emotions burned in Felix’s eyes. His tone was friendly, but his eyes paused too long on Audrey’s face, as if looking for something.
He wanted something from her.
She wanted something, too.
Felix might not know much. He might know everything. Either way, he was the first opening she’d had in days, and Audrey was done wasting openings.
She needed one thing now: where Cary was being kept, moved, or hidden. If Felix knew, Audrey would get it out of him tonight—by charm, by lies, or by force if she had to. That was the next step in getting her sister back.
After that, she could start using this place rather than just surviving it.
31
She’d almost gotten critical intel on Cary.
Almost.
Then Felix had offered the drugs.
And in that moment, Audrey had wanted silence more than anything. The world around her had grown so loud—the pounding in her chest, the relentless churn of fear, shame, and vigilance. Every second, she felt the weight of watching eyes and impossible expectations. She’d been holding herself stiff against panic for too long. Silence was the only thing that felt like safety, the only escape from the storm inside her. That was the part she couldn’t lie about now.
Felix hadn’t dragged her off the path; he’d opened a door, and she’d stepped through it herself. She’d followed Felix into warmth and smoke and the promise of quiet. She’d traded a real chance for numbness.
Even now, with her skull splitting and her mouth sour with chemicals, she knew that was the truth. Addiction greeted her like an old strategy dressed in new clothes. As always, it was silence first and consequences later.
Light from the hallway bled into the room, thin and invasive. Audrey felt it before she saw it, a hot lance through her skull. It took everything she had to lift her head toward the silhouette in the doorway.
