Outside the entrance, under a canopy of dim lights, stood a woman in heels far too high for pacing—but she did anyway, her silhouette sharp and commanding against the night. Madam Indiana. Her white coat flared behind her with every turn, and though her lipstick remained perfectly intact, her eyes were wild—red-rimmed, anxious, fierce. The moment the SUV turned the corner, she stopped dead. Her heart slammed once in her chest. The doors hadn’t even fully opened before she was moving—running, not walking, her hand reaching for the handle herself. “Move,” she snapped at the operative who tried to assist, and the man backed off instantly. The door opened. Indiana’s breath caught in her throat. Monica lay crumpled across the back seat, unconscious, her face smudged with dirt, her lip split, blood crusted against her temple. Her clothes were torn. Her leg—bandaged hastily and still bleeding through. “No—no, no, no,” Indiana whispered, kneeling beside the car, brushing Monica’s hai
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-21
Masuk
