191

191


Eira's pov

I walked through the dark corridor, heart pounding so loud I feared even the shadows could hear it.

The stench of rust, sweat, and old chains clung to my clothes. Each step deeper into Snow’s lair felt like a step back into the nightmare I thought I’d burned from my memory. My boots crushed bones of silence beneath them. My fingers brushed the edge of the scarf concealing my face. No one here could know me. Not yet.

I passed through steel doors camouflaged as part of an abandoned textile warehouse on the outskirts of Baltimore. The flickering overhead lights buzzed with the dying breath of electricity, casting dancing shapes over crates,too many crates.

I already knew what was inside them. Girls. Drugged. Caged. Forgotten.

“Eliza’s Gate is the first port,” I whispered into the hidden mic sewn into the hem of my collar. “Then they’re moved. East Africa. Middle East. Some stay. All trafficked.”

Crackling static was my only answer.

Then,

"Keep moving," came Draven's voice, low, tense. “We’re watching.”

Good.

At least someone would bear witness.

A girl, no older than fifteen, peeked from a narrow window near one of the container doors. Our eyes met. Recognition widened hers, and panic gripped my throat.

No. No, no, no.

She mouthed, Eira.

I shook my head subtly, begging her not to say anything. Her lips quivered, but she stayed silent. She was smarter than most adults I knew.

But the guard near her noticed her change in posture.

“Oi,” he barked, moving toward her.

I didn’t think. I reached into my coat, pulled the lighter I’d hidden, and dropped it near a thin trail of accelerant I’d sprayed earlier when pretending to "inspect" the fuel lines. The fire caught like a prayer turned curse.

Chaos erupted.

Screams. Smoke. Panic.

I didn’t run. Not yet.

I pushed through the veil of black smoke, ducking past guards. One of them grabbed my arm,I slammed my elbow into his throat. Another came from behind,I twisted and used his own weight to throw him into a pile of pallets.

“Get the girls out!” I yelled, throwing open a container door. Two girls ran out, then three. One stumbled. I lifted her.

She stared up at me. “I knew it was you.”

Tears. Dirt. Firelight in her eyes.

“I’m no one,” I said.

“No. You’re Eira. The one who used to save us.”

Used to.

I bit down the guilt like venom.

I pushed her out. “Run. Don’t look back.”

Then I turned and ran the opposite direction.

I couldn’t leave empty-handed.

Back through the smoke, up the metal stairs, into the top floor,Snow’s office.

Her throne of mirrors, always facing herself. Narcissism never slept. On her desk, I found it. A recorder still blinking red. Her voice. The plans. The routes.

I pocketed it.

And then I saw the map.

Pinpoints. Strings. Dozens of coordinates written in her tidy, emotionless handwriting. Human trafficking, military movements, corrupted officials. And girls,so many girls,marked by initials, numbers, and destinations.

I snapped pictures, fast. Uploaded them to the cloud.

Then my luck ran out.

Footsteps. Heavy ones. Antonio?

No. Lighter. More precise.

Snow?

I didn’t stick around to find out.

Down the back stairwell, sliding along the pipe, out through the rusted drain cover, scraped knuckles be damned.

Out into the city. The smoke was rising behind me now. Sirens in the far distance.

I found the alley behind a local diner. Leaned against the wall. My legs shook.

I slid to the ground, chest heaving.

Pulled out my phone. Opened the secure line.

Typed:
Don’t let them die like I did.
Attached: audio, map photos, decrypted route.

Hit send.

Then I dropped my head back and finally let the tears come.

Not just for the girls. Not just for me.

But because I saw her again,in that lair.

Snow.

Wearing my face.

Smiling.

As if this were all just some twisted game.

As if I’d never left.

As if I’d never truly escaped her.

But I had the proof now. The map. Her voice. And this time, I wouldn’t just survive.

This time, I’d burn her entire empire down.

And I wouldn’t stop until every girl was free… and Snow was nothing but ashes.

I sat in that alley longer than I should have, the cold from the concrete seeping into my spine, mixing with the sweat and blood caking my skin. The city bustled just beyond the walls,people laughing, cars honking, a dog barking somewhere in the distance. A world still turning while girls were being packed into crates like cattle.

I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, tasting soot.

What now?

I had the map, the recordings. Draven would move fast,he had to. But something didn’t sit right with me. It was too easy. Too… orchestrated.

What twisted game was Snow playing?

She knew I was alive. That girl’s reaction wasn’t the only slip-up. Snow wanted me to see all of that. The map left open. The recorder still on. Hell, even the guards didn’t react fast enough.

This wasn’t a lapse.

This was bait.

My lips tightened into a grim line as I stood. My disguise was half-burned, my hoodie covered in ash and blood. I’d need a clean hideout before I could move again. But first, I had to think.

Snow didn’t want to kill me quickly.

No, that would be too merciful for her.

She wanted me rattled. She wanted me obsessed. She wanted me right where she could watch,closer than ever.

And if she was wearing my face now, what else was she doing with it?

Forging alliances? Leading others astray? Killing in my name?

Was she planning to erase me, not just from existence,but from memory? Rewrite me into something monstrous?

I clenched my fists.

The idea of someone using my face to do to others what had been done to me,it turned my stomach.

This wasn’t just rescue anymore.

This was personal.

If she thought I’d run, she didn’t know me anymore.

I’d played her games before. This time, I’d burn the board.