Chapter 15 #2
Her eyes flicked nervously toward Irish, but he remained in the hallway instead of following me into the room, keeping enough distance that his size and presence wouldn't add to whatever fear she was already carrying.
I was grateful he understood without needing to be told, and I moved a little closer while still leaving enough space between us that the woman wouldn't feel cornered.
"My name is Skye. We're getting people out of here."
She swallowed.
"Out?"
"If you want to leave."
The words visibly confused her.
"If I want?"
"Yes."
Her eyes filled.
Behind me, Irish shifted slightly but remained silent.
The woman looked toward the door.
"They said we'd be transferred."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Do you want to go with them?"
Her head shook immediately.
"No."
"Then come with us."
She pushed herself to her feet slowly, every movement carrying the uncertainty of someone who had learned to question what happened whenever she followed an unfamiliar instruction.
Irish stepped farther into the corridor as she rose, deliberately widening the space around her rather than forcing her to squeeze past him, and I saw the exact moment she noticed what he had done.
Her shoulders didn't completely relax, but some of the fear eased from her expression, which told me the gesture had mattered.
Trigger continued ahead while Irish spoke quietly into the radio and arranged for Storm to meet us at the rear route. I guided the woman toward the service corridor, but before we reached the turn.
A shout came from farther down the hidden wing, followed by the slam of a door and rapidly approaching footsteps. Irish's posture changed instantly, every trace of softness disappearing beneath the focused man I'd first met inside Alderwick House.
"Stay here."
This time I didn't argue when Irish told me to stay where I was.
He disappeared down the corridor with Trigger while I remained beside the woman we had just found, forcing my voice to stay calm even as every instinct inside me wanted to follow them and find out what was happening.
The seconds stretched unbearably while footsteps and muffled movement echoed through the concealed wing, and I kept talking to her despite barely hearing my own words over the pounding of my heart.
Then Irish's voice finally carried back toward us from farther down the corridor.
"Clear."
We moved forward.
The next room held two more women, one older and the other young enough that I immediately wondered whether she had even reached eighteen.
Both wore the same soft neutral clothing I remembered from my original tour, and both watched us with the terrified uncertainty of people who had learned that unfamiliar faces rarely brought anything good.
The older woman looked at us.
"Who are you?"
"People trying to get you out."
She stared toward Irish.
"Police?"
"No."
Irish answered before I could, and although the woman's fear didn't disappear, something about his refusal to pretend we were authorities changed it.
She still watched him cautiously, but the panic in her expression gave way to a more uncertain kind of assessment, as though she was trying to decide whether honesty from a stranger might be safer than another polished lie from someone claiming to help her.
"Then why should we trust you?"
"You shouldn't," he said.
I looked at him.
He continued.
"You should decide whether staying here is what you want. If it isn't, we can get you somewhere safe where nobody decides for you."
The woman studied him.
Then me.
"What about the others?"
"We're looking."
That answer was mine.
Her expression softened.
"Then I'm coming."
The younger woman nodded almost immediately after.
We moved them back toward Storm.
The extraction gathered momentum as one woman became three, then five, and eventually seven, each new room revealing another person Croft House had hidden behind its carefully designed fa?ade.
Every door we opened seemed to reveal another version of the same controlled environment: neat rooms, restricted windows, identical clothing, medication trays, and personal belongings reduced to whatever fit inside a single drawer.
Then we reached the end of the corridor.
A staff member lay unconscious near the wall, zip-tied by Trigger.
Dr. Croft was nowhere in sight.
Irish checked the next two rooms and found both empty before we reached the final locked door at the end of the corridor.
Something inside me tightened before Cipher ever released the lock.
Perhaps it was the geometry, instinct, or simply the way every clue Isla had left seemed to converge on that one point, but I knew the room mattered before anyone opened it.
Cipher released the lock.
Irish looked at me.
"Stay behind me."
I did.
Trigger opened the door.
The room beyond was dim, but there was enough light to reveal a woman sitting on the floor beside the bed with dark hair falling around her face, gray clothing hanging loosely from her thinner frame, and bare feet tucked beneath her.
My entire body went still before my mind could catch up with what my heart already knew.
"Isla."
Her head lifted slowly.
For one second, she only stared.
Then her face changed.
"Skye?"
I moved before anyone could stop me.
Irish stepped aside.
Isla tried to stand and couldn't as I dropped beside her.
Her hands came up toward my face as though she needed to prove I was real.
"You came."
The words broke something inside me.
I wrapped my arms around her carefully.
"Of course I came."
She shook against me.
I held her tighter.
"You took forever."
A laugh escaped me through tears.
"You're impossible."
"I learned from you."
Irish turned away slightly, giving us privacy without leaving.
I pulled back enough to look at her.
Isla was much thinner than when I'd last seen her, with shadows beneath her eyes, bruising along one wrist, and the unmistakable fog of medication behind her gaze. None of it mattered as much as the simple, overwhelming truth that she was alive and finally within reach.
"Can you walk?"
"Maybe."
"Don't lie."
Her mouth twitched.
"Then no."
Irish crouched several feet away.
"Isla."
She looked at him.
Fear flashed.
I touched her hand.
"He's with me."
Her eyes returned to mine.
"You trust him?"
The question caught me off guard, especially because Irish stood close enough to hear every word. I looked at him for a moment before returning my attention to Isla.
“Yes.” The word came far more easily than I expected, and the surprise I felt at saying it so confidently was reflected in the subtle change that crossed Irish's face.
For a moment we simply looked at each other, both of us recognizing that something had shifted between us without having the time or privacy to examine what it meant.
Hawkeye's voice broke through the radio before either of us could respond.
“Vehicles moving north drive. Three.” Trigger swore beneath his breath, and Irish was already rising before the last word had finished coming through the comms.
"We need out now."
Isla grabbed my wrist.
"There are more."
"I know."
"No." Her grip tightened. "Lower level."
The entire corridor seemed to still around Isla's revelation.
Trigger looked toward Irish, and the change in the plan happened without anyone needing to debate it.
We might have found the woman we'd come for, but if Croft House was hiding more people below us—especially children—none of us was walking away yet.
Irish touched his earpiece.
"Raze, bring the second team forward. Storm, expand transport. Hawkeye, stall those vehicles without exposing position."
Raze answered instantly.
"On it."
Hawkeye's voice followed.
"I can drop the gate camera and disable first vehicle tire."
Irish looked at Isla.
"Where's the lower access?"
She pointed weakly toward the far wall.
"Behind medical storage. Stairs."
I followed the direction Isla indicated and immediately saw the discrepancy I should have expected by now: once again, the dimensions didn't balance because Croft House had concealed another part of itself behind an ordinary wall. I rose and found Irish watching me.
"Can you find it?"
"Yes."
He held my gaze long enough for me to understand exactly what he was giving me before stepping aside. "Lead."
I moved toward the false wall with Irish at my back, no longer the civilian he was trying to remove from the investigation but the woman he trusted to find the way forward.