“Then we move on him,” she says.
I arch a brow.
“You’re trusting me,” I say.
“I’m trusting the pattern,” she replies.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is right now.”
I watch her for a second longer, then nod.
“Alright,” I say. “Then we follow it.”
She nods once in return.
“We do it carefully,” she says.
“Always.”
“And we don’t get caught.”
I let a faint grin pull at my mouth.
“Never do.”
She doesn’t smile.
But she doesn’t step back either.
CHAPTER 15
JOLIE
The sweep hits wrong.
Not just fast—wrong.
The rhythm of the corridor feels different in a way that doesn’t belong to routine movement, and I feel it before I consciously process it, that tightening in the air that comes when too many boots move with the same purpose at the same time.
I don’t wait to confirm it.
I move.
My boots hit the floor in controlled strides as I cut down a side corridor, abandoning the main route without hesitation. The lighting dips as I go deeper, flickering unevenly overhead, and the air thickens with heat and recycled metal, dragging against the back of my throat with every breath.
“Clear the lower sectors.”
The voice echoes behind me, closer than it should be.
“Check all access points.”
I adjust direction mid-step, recalculating distances and angles, but the corridors here don’t offer clean exits. Everything narrows, compresses, funnels into dead spaces that don’t leave room for error.
Then a hand catches my arm.
I react instantly, my body twisting, my free hand coming up?—
