Chapter 65
VI
I’m halfway through my shift when Sting appears at my table. No warning. Just there, coat open, eyes scanning the hub like he’s looking for threats.
“Come with me,” he says.
I set down the packet I’m holding. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” His hand finds my elbow, firm, grounding. “Someone wants to see you.”
My stomach drops. “Who?”
He doesn’t answer. Just starts walking toward the exit.
I follow, knee protesting every step.
We move through corridors I half recognize, display cases that once held jewelry, service passages, old maintenance halls, everything frozen in time. Sting doesn’t speak. Doesn’t explain. Just walks with that steady, controlled pace that means something’s happening.
We reach a heavy metal door I’ve never seen before. Reinforced. Locked from the inside.
Sting knocks once, sharp, deliberate. A panel slides open. Eyes peer through. Then the door unlocks with a heavy clunk.
Armen is on the other side. He looks at me, expression unreadable. “She’s at the perimeter.”
My pulse kicks. “Who?”
“Older woman. Says her daughter came looking for you. Never came home.”
The world tilts.
Mara.
“Is it—” I can’t finish the sentence.
“We don’t know. But she won’t leave. And she knows your name.”
I swallow hard. “I need to see her.”
“That’s why we’re here.” Armen steps aside, gestures down another corridor. “But you don’t cross the barrier. You don’t make promises. You listen, and then you walk away. Understood?”
I nod.
“Good.” He starts walking.
I follow, Sting at my back.