RED'S POVThe bathroom silence had teeth now. Not the temporary reprieve of a locked door, but the suffocating quiet that follows when you've dodged a bullet and felt it graze your skin. I sat on the edge of the tub, fingers tracing the cool porcelain like it could anchor me to something real, something solid. The mirror showed a ghost. Pale skin. Dead eyes. I looked like I'd been carved from ice and left to melt in slow motion.Thursday was gone. Evaporated. The contact point? Compromised. Sebastián Reyes had seen the woman, and that bastard never forgot a face. His brain was a steel trap wrapped in expensive cologne and quiet menace. That channel was sealed now, locked down by Ricki's ever-vigilant right hand. The documents I needed, the proof that could buy my freedom, sat behind a wall I couldn't breach anymore. My lifeline had been cut, and the weight of it pressed against my ribs like a fist.I stood and moved to the window. Didn't look out at the manicured grounds, just studied
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