I keep speaking anyway.
I outline Gideon’s encrypted ledgers. The movement of weapons disguised as medical shipments. The way Alexei funneled intel from the East. The money laundering rings disguised as different start-ups and businesses.
The room grows heavier with every detail, like the air itself is absorbing the corruption.
When I’m done—finally done—I sit back, throat raw, heart hammering.
Silence. Thick. Suffocating.
No one moves.
No one speaks.
“You mapped everything.” Lucian’s eyes lock onto mine.
Noah lets out a slow, stunned breath.
“Holy shit,” Felix mutters.
Maeve presses her fingers into her eyes like she’s fighting a migraine.
Kellan leans back, just staring at me.
Luca finally lifts his head.
His eyes are red. And burning.
“Great,” he says, voice rough and low. “Amazing. You took down his whole operation on paper.” He swallows hard. “But tell me how the hell any of this helps Isobel.”
And just like that, the hour of hell I just dumped onto the table becomes nothing compared to what’s coming.
24 FIVE MONTHS
Idon’t know how long I’ve been here.
Days. Weeks. Months. Time dissolved somewhere between the hunger and the darkness. It feels like an eternity wrapped in bruises.
Jace used to come every few days.
He wouldn’t speak. He wouldn’t touch me.
He’d just stand there while Gideon’s men did whatever they wanted.
I hate him for it.
I hate the sight of him.
I hate that part of me still remembers what his voice sounds like when he says my name.
To survive, I think of Maeve. I picture her safe—laughing maybe, yelling at someone, refusing to let the world break her. I hope Felix and Kellan are still guarding her. I hope Noah and Luca are piecing everything together, that they know I didn’t just disappear.
I think of my dad, too. I cling to the idea that he’ll eventually see through Gideon’s games and come for me again. But hope has its own teeth.
I’m reminded that the longer I hold it, the more it hurts. Memories hurt. Thoughts hurt. Even breathing hurts.
I’m always dizzy. The room spins even when I’m still.
My stomach rejects more food than it accepts.
