Miranda stood in the center of her living room, surrounded by various pieces of high-grade equipment. The lights in the room were dim, casting long shadows against the walls. On her coffee table sat several black cases that were open, revealing the matte finish of professional-grade weaponry. She picked up a tactical vest and pulled it over her head, tightening the straps until it sat snugly against her chest. She checked the weight of it and felt satisfied.The incident from a few days ago had changed her perspective entirely. Up until that point, Miranda had tried to play by the rules. She had been reactive, waiting for her enemies to make a move before she responded. That passivity had almost cost her everything. As she checked the magazine of a sidearm, she promised herself that those days were over. She was done waiting. She was going to take the fight to them.Miranda was not a novice when it came to combat. She had served in the military for several years before entering the pr

Darren saw the news and wanted to curse out loud. He was sitting at the dining table, coffee in hand, and the TV was on in the living room the way it usually was in the mornings. Background noise, mostly. Something Riley liked to have on while she moved around the house. He never paid it much attention. But then the words coming from the screen made him go still, and he set his coffee cup down very slowly and stared at the reporter on the screen. The entire operation. Every single member of that crew. Caught. He kept his face completely neutral because Riley was in the room. That was the only reason he wasn't saying every single word that was currently lining up in his head. He pressed his back teeth together and breathed through his nose and looked at the TV like he was just a regular person watching regular news on a regular morning. The reporter was going through the details. Gang confrontation. Multiple arrests. Evidence recovered at the scene. Authorities were describing it

Darren had spent a reasonable amount of time at home that evening. He had sat with Riley and Aiden through dinner, helped Aiden with a short reading assignment afterward, and made sure that by the time he said he had to leave for his meeting, the night at home already felt complete enough that Riley wouldn't have much to say about it. She had looked at him when he picked up his jacket, that same steady look she had been giving him lately, but she didn't ask questions. She just told him not to be too late and turned back to the television. He had nodded and walked out. Now he was sitting in what had to be the most uninspiring bar he had ever set foot in, and that was saying something because the places this crew chose for their meetings were never good. This one was on the outskirts of the city, far enough from the centre that the ride over had taken longer than he would have liked. The name of the bar was written on a board abo

The air in the hallway was that weird, stale apartment building scent—a mix of old cooking spices and industrial floor cleaner. Arianna shifted her heavy work bag to her other shoulder, her keys already out and jingling in her hand. Beside her, Mirella was hopping from one foot to the other, humming some song she’d heard on the radio earlier.Since things had stayed pretty high-tension at Novax, the kid had basically become Arianna’s shadow. It was easier that way. Whenever some nosy coworker in the breakroom asked who the curly-haired girl was, Arianna would just shrug and say she was watching her sister’s kid for a few weeks. It was a half-truth that tasted like ash in her mouth, but it kept people from digging.But the second Arianna reached her porch, the humming stopped. Her stomach did a slow, sickening roll."Wait, Mirella. Stay behind me," Arianna whispered, her voice sharp.She looked at her front door. The wood around the deadbolt was sp

The emergency section of the city’s general hospital was loud, crowded, and restless. Arianna sat on a metal chair outside the ER ward, her hands tightly clasped together as she stared at the closed double doors where Mirella had been taken. The air smelled sharply of disinfectant and medicine, a thick scent that seemed to cling to the back of her throat. It made her stomach churn.Around her, the waiting area was full. A toddler cried loudly somewhere to her right while a tired-looking mother tried to calm him. An elderly man coughed into a handkerchief. A nurse pushed a trolley past the corridor, the wheels making a low screeching sound on the tiled floor. Voices overlapped constantly—worried family members whispering, nurses calling out instructions, the occasional sound of someone groaning in pain.Every sound made Arianna’s head ache.She swallowed hard, pressing a hand over her mouth as nausea rose in her stomach. For a moment, she thought she might throw up right there in the c