Chapter 109

(Cylan's POV)

The moment I saw the name on the clipboard, my heart skipped a beat. Emily. Room 403. My hands trembled as I scanned the rest of the report. My eyes impatiently darted across lines of clinical jargon and coded instructions. Emily wasn't gone. She wasn't dead. She was here-alive and locked away in the restricted wing.

I shouldn't have been anywhere near the nurse's station. But after weeks of sneaking around, pretending to be terribly sick, and eavesdropping on staff conversations, I finally had a lead. The clipboard had been left unattended, just long enough for me to snap a photo with my phone. My heart pounded as I slipped back into the common area, trying to act like nothing was amiss.

Later that night, in the dim light of my room, I studied the photo. Room 403. "Restricted Wing-High Risk" was scrawled in bold red letters at the top. I didn't need to know what "high risk" meant to understand one thing: Emily needed help. But I couldn't go to Angel. She'd never agree to this. She'd tell me it was too dangerous and reckless. And she'd probably be right. But I couldn't let that stop me.

The plan came together in pieces.

I started by recruiting a few of the newer patients-people who had no loyalty to our group, people desperate enough to take a risk for the promise of freedom. There was Lena, an unhealthily slim girl who claimed she used to be a gymnast before the center got their claws into her. Her agility would be useful. Then there was Marcus, quiet and cold but strong as hell. I'd seen him lift a broken bedframe like it weighed nothing.

I met with them in secret and told them plans in the shadows of the storage closet where no one would overhear.

"The restricted wing is guarded 24/7," I explained as I traced the map I'd stolen from the staff break room. "But the guards rotate every three hours. That gives us a small window when they're distracted, switching shifts." Lena frowned. "What about the security cameras?"

I hesitated. "I...I don't have an answer for that yet."

Marcus crossed his arms. "If we don't figure it out, we're walking into a death trap.

helped me when no one else did. I'm

days, I watched the guards, memorized their patterns and noted when they seemed most distracted. I stole a staff badge from an unattended locker, praying it would work on the restricted

What if the badge didn't work? What if we got caught?

morning, I had my answer. I didn't

trembling. Marcus looked calm, but his jaw was clenched so tight I could hear his teeth

restricted wing, my heart pounded so loudly I was sure the

(Dilara's POV)

was mercilessly biting through my jacket. Ethan's voice played in my head in a smug echo of his earlier taunts. "I don't remember you," he'd said with fake innocence. "Are

Liar.

pretending to forgive him. I needed him to trust

all came

simple. A

lucrative "investment opportunity." I'd made sure he'd come alone by

sick. "Dilara," he said with a grin.

forced a smile. "And I've saved

him. He

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