Chapter 37 – Her Face, His Ruin

• Smoke drifted like torn silk through the shattered remains of the warehouse door. The moment should have exploded—but it didn’t. It stretched, suspended in something surreal, like time had inhaled and refused to exhale.
• The first thing visible through the haze was the glint of metal—a rifle tumbling from the lifeless fingers of a guard. His body collapsed to the concrete in a soft, sickening thud. Blood fanned beneath him in lazy, spreading arcs.
• A boot slamming down. A flash of muzzle fire. The ripple of shadows racing along the wall.