Font Size:
“And instead—”
Her grip tightens on her gun.
Her eyes harden.
“They get me.”
Mila
My heart is pounding.
Fast.
Hard.
But my hands?
Steady.
Perfectly steady.
Because this—
This I understand.
“They want to contain me?” I whisper.
A slow breath.
Controlled.
Measured.
“Let them try.”
The first shadow appears at the edge of the ravine.
Movement.
Careful.
Professional.
They think they’re walking into control.
They think they’re walking into an easy capture.
They’re wrong.
I raise the gun.
Take aim.
And for the first time—
I don’t feel like the target.
I feel like the threat.
