Rico – POV
I couldn't breathe.
My hands hovered over the surveillance console, useless, shaking—fucking shaking—as the red dot marking her location flickered one last time and then disappeared off the map.
Signal lost.
Subject Twelve – Off Grid.
"Shit," I whispered. Then louder—slamming my fist into the edge of the desk, "Shit!"
How?
She was here ten minutes ago. Laughing at breakfast. Sitting right beside me. I watched her pour juice like it was just another peaceful day in this broken excuse for a sanctuary we'd built. I let myself believe she was okay. That we were okay.
And now she was gone.
I'd checked every camera. Every sensor. She slipped through a blind spot I should've patched two weeks ago but didn't because I got cocky. Because she looked happy. Like she was starting to heal.
I let my guard down.
I fucking failed her.
A sharp buzz jolted me. A message.
ETA: 9 min.
Justin.
Oh God.
