It had been three days since Alina had been glued to the surveillance feed, her eyes bloodshot, fingers stiff from endless scrolling through cameras, and mind hovering on the brink of exhaustion. Every shadow, every movement in Sterling Tower flicked across the monitors, her body refusing rest as though sleep itself was a luxury she could not afford.

Patricia leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed, watching Alina with a mixture of concern and quiet exasperation. “Alina,” she ...