The day broke quietly, but Lynda felt no peace in it. She had barely slept last night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw shadows; she kept seeing Marcus by the wall, then Eleven pacing the compound, and Henry’s serious face fading into the night air.

By the time the first sunbeam touched the curtains, she was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hands locked tightly together. Her chest felt heavy, like she had swallowed stone. She tried to take a few breaths, tried to push ...