The first bullet hit the stone just inches above Sonia’s head.She and Eric ducked behind a collapsed archway, dust choking the air. From the top of the ruined staircase, shadows moved armed Cartel operatives, shouting into radios, closing in fast.“We’re boxed in!” Eric hissed.Sonia clutched the bag tight against her chest. “We can’t let them take this.”“Then we run.”But there was no clear path. The only exit was back through the vault and that would mean being cornered.Eric looked at the jagged hole in the east wall. “There. Through the old chapel wing.”Sonia hesitated. That part of Daxton was condemned, rumored to have collapsed years ago. But rumors didn’t matter now. Only choices. Only survival.She nodded. “Go.”They sprinted, dodging fire as stone and glass exploded behind them. Eric limped slightly, still recovering, but he never slowed. Sonia led the way, ducking under a hanging beam and bursting into the old chapel.Inside, the roof was half-caved in. Light pierced thro
Sonia pressed her back against the cold metal wall, heart pounding. Footsteps echoed above measured, deliberate, hunting. Eric stood beside her, blade in hand, body tense. He didn’t say a word, but the glance he gave her was enough: We hold. We wait.She nodded once.The voices grew louder. Two men, maybe three. Cartel scouts, judging by the clipped, radio-charged tone of their speech.“Surveillance room’s down here,” one said. “Check behind the cabinets.”Sonia’s eyes darted to the far corner. There was a narrow crawlspace behind the filing shelves, hidden behind the false panel she and Silas had once reinforced with metal plating. She moved fast, silent, slipping behind the cabinet and pulling Eric with her.The wall was close. Too close. Their bodies pressed together, breaths shallow.“Stay quiet,” she mouthed.A creak. A thud.The door to the room slammed open.Heavy boots crunched over broken tile.One of the men laughed. “Looks like someone’s been here. Fresh footprints.”Sonia’
The Daxton campus was a ruin wrapped in silence.The great iron gates were torn open, half-melted at the hinges. The manicured hedges were scorched black. Smoke curled from the remains of the west wing, where the ballroom had once glittered with chandeliers and secrets. Now it was all ash and fractured marble.Sonia stood just beyond the gates, her breath catching. It didn’t look like a school anymore. It looked like a battleground. But her feet carried her forward, through the smoke, past the courtyard statues now crumbled and charred.Eric moved beside her, his steps cautious but determined. His side was healing, but every breath still made him wince. She hated seeing him hurt. But more than that, she respected that he came anyway.“We need to move fast,” he murmured, scanning the upper balconies. “If the Cartel’s still here…”“They will be,” Sonia said. “But not for long.”They took a path around the main building, their boots crunching over broken glass and gravel. The gymnasium h
Morning came in a bruised shade of gray, the kind of sky that felt like it hadn’t decided whether to rain or break open with light. The air outside the inn was cold, sharp, and heavy with the scent of pine and smoke drifting from a distant fire line.Sonia tied her hair back her real hair now and slid into her jacket. No more binding her chest, no more blazer buttoned to the throat. Today, she wasn’t Silas Vale. She wasn’t hiding behind him.She was herself. And that would have to be enough.In the kitchen, Rivers was already awake, pouring over a hand-drawn map with Silas, Isla, and Alex. Steam rose from chipped mugs. Tension sat in every corner of the room like fog.Eric sat by the window, eyes scanning the tree line. The sedative had worn off. The wound in his side was bandaged tight, but his posture was alert, his jaw set.Sonia entered. Their eyes met. He gave a small nod. No words. None needed.“Daxton is officially under federal investigation,” Isla reported without looking up.
Silas didn’t answer right away. He stared out into the dark, jaw tight, eyes distant. “Matches burn out,” he said eventually. “But sometimes they start fires.”Sonia drew her knees closer, her arms wrapped around them. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”Silas glanced sideways at her. “You afraid of what’s next?”“No.” She exhaled. “I’m afraid I’ll stop feeling afraid. That I’ll get used to this fighting, running, bleeding for something we’re not even sure will hold.”Silas nodded slowly. “But we keep going anyway.”The door creaked again. Eric leaned on the frame, looking pale but steadier than before. One arm was in a sling now, but his stance was solid. “Am I interrupting?”Sonia stood immediately. “You should be resting.”He shrugged with his good shoulder. “I rested enough to know I hate it.”Silas stood, gave them both a long look, and murmured, “I’ll give you two a minute.”As he disappeared into the inn, Eric stepped out beside Sonia, his voice quiet. “You really lit a match back the
The van tore through the forest road, its tires spitting gravel, headlights cutting through the trees like twin blades. Inside, the silence was pierced only by Eric’s labored breaths and the low murmur of Rivers giving instructions from the passenger seat. Sonia sat beside Eric, clutching his hand, her other pressed firmly against the bloodstained towel on his side. Her jeans were soaked with it. So were her fingers.“Almost there,” Rivers called back. “Fifteen minutes.”Eric groaned. Sonia looked down. His skin was pale, almost waxen in the cold light. His eyes fluttered open, and for a second, they met hers. There was something in them, pain, yes, but something else too.“You stayed,” he rasped.She nodded, too choked up to speak.Outside, the trees blurred past like ghosts.Behind them, Daxton Academy smoldered. Not just the physical building but the system, the legacy. Sonia could almost feel the tremble in the air, the dominoes toppling. The secrets they’d uploaded were spreading