Zoe POV

Chloe’s face does something unguarded the moment I step through the entrance.

It only lasts a second — her mouth parting, her eyes going wider than she intends, a quick scan of me like she’s running a check she didn’t expect to need. Then, barely above a whisper, almost to herself: “How is she here? She was supposed to be — they were supposed to have her.”

I file that away.

I walk forward, step up onto the low platform at the front of the ...