POV: Clara

Three.”

The chain slid. Jenny’s shoulder set, umbrella angled like a spear. I eased the deadbolt, palms slick. The tether burned bright in my chest and under it—Daniel moving down the hall.

I cracked the door.

Two men waited in the corridor light. Young and well-fed, hair too glossy for our part of town. Expensive jackets, cheap shoes. The one on the left clutched a convenience-store bouquet. Yellow eyes flicked, quick as a camera ...