Chapter 16 The Quiet

• Morning creeps into the safehouse like it’s sorry to be here — gray light through slats, the hum of old pipes, the faint tap of Bishop’s keyboard echoing through the hallway like a pulse.
• Ellerei stands by the table, hair pulled back tight, dark turtleneck hugging her ribs like armor. Her hands move without thinking — sorting blueprints, double-checking the fake switch case Decker left out overnight.
• She looks perfect. Clean. Sharp. No cracks.