Elena’s POV

The night air felt thick and heavy, like a wet blanket pressing down on the city. It didn’t help that the rains had become relentless.

Streetlights buzzed overhead, casting yellow glows on the wet pavement that smelled like rain and old oil.

My bandaged hand throbbed with every step, a sharp reminder of the mess I was in. We stood across from the SilverTrace building: a tall, dark office with shiny glass windows that reflected the moon like cold eyes.

Inside, a lone worker ...