Selene leaned against the cold brick wall outside the theater, rain dripping from her hair and pooling at her boots. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a hollow ache that spread from her ribs to her soul.
Marrow had come to kill her.
But he hadn't.
The revelation unsettled her more than any bullet wound.
Calder appeared beside her, eyes scanning the street. "You okay?"
She nodded, but her mind was already racing. "Something's wrong. Harrow's not just sending assassins—they're sending messages."
"Like what?"
Selene glanced back at the theater. "Marrow isn't just a weapon. He's a wildcard. If he's hesitating, it means there's a crack in their orders. Maybe someone inside is pulling strings."
Calder frowned. "You think someone's betraying Harrow?"
"Or someone's trying to save us."
Elsewhere — The Lazarus Compound
Lina sat up in a makeshift cot, weak but determined. The wires connected to her arms sparked and hissed, but she barely noticed.
Fragments of memories flooded her mind: Selene's voice calling her name, the sharp taste of betrayal, and then, something else—a new, fragile hope.
She clutched a torn piece of fabric from Selene's jacket, the scent still faintly there.
"I have to find her," Lina whispered, her voice trembling but resolute.
The guards outside were distracted, their attention focused on the chaos Selene had unleashed earlier.
This was her chance.
Back on the rain-slick streets, Selene and Calder moved quickly toward their next objective. The war wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about uncovering who could be trusted.
And who was the true enemy.