The door slams shut with a thunderous crack, sending a shockwave of panic through my body. For a moment, time itself seems to freeze. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by the soft crackling of the flashlight's light as it flickers weakly.
"Liam..." I whisper, my voice trembling. I'm not sure what to feel anymore. Betrayed? Scared? I don't even know who the enemy is anymore.
Liam's hand tightens on the flashlight, his expression hardening. "They're coming for us," he mutters, his voice low and grim. "We don't have much time."
I take a step back, my heart racing. The walls feel like they're closing in around me, suffocating me. I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting someone—Vance or Jaxon—to appear, but the hallway remains eerily empty. Too empty.
Max stands beside me, his breath shallow, his body tense, like he's ready to spring into action at any moment. "What are we going to do?" he asks, his voice tight with anxiety. "We can't just stand here."
Liam doesn't hesitate. He moves swiftly to the door, testing the handle, his eyes scanning the small room we've been trapped in. "We'll find another way out," he says, his tone confident, even though I can hear the urgency in his voice. "But we have to be quick."
I can't help but notice the subtle difference in Liam's demeanor now. He's no longer the boy I once knew. This version of him is colder, sharper, more calculating. But is it the situation that's changed him—or something else?
Max follows Liam to the door, his hand gripping the knob. But when he tries to turn it, it won't budge. It's locked.
"What's going on?" I ask, panic creeping into my voice. "Why can't we get out?"
Liam doesn't answer immediately. He simply steps back, his gaze flicking to the window in the far corner of the room. I notice for the first time that the window is slightly cracked open, a sliver of light spilling into the otherwise dim room.
"There's another way," Liam says, his eyes narrowing. "We can get out through the back. There's a service entrance just outside."
I glance at Max. His eyes search the walls, the door, the window, trying to figure out our next move. "How do you know that?" he asks, his voice edged with suspicion.
Liam turns toward him, his expression unreadable. "I've been keeping track of everything. I know how this place is laid out."
My heart sinks. Everything about this feels wrong. I thought I knew Liam—trusted him. But now, every word he says sounds like a carefully crafted lie.
But then I remember: we're still trapped. We have no choice but to trust him—for now.
Max doesn't seem convinced, but he nods anyway, stepping toward the window. "Let's go then. Before they come for us."
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside me. I follow Max to the window, squeezing through the narrow opening and into the cool night air outside. The street is eerily quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.
I look around, but there's no sign of anyone—no sign of danger... yet. The darkness is thick, but it feels like the calm before a storm.
Liam emerges behind us, his eyes scanning the surroundings, his body tense, alert. "We have to keep moving," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They'll be looking for us."
Max glances back at the building, his expression hard. "Then let's make sure they don't find us."
We move quickly, ducking into the shadows, making our way down the quiet street. Every sound seems amplified in the stillness of the night, every step too loud. My heart pounds in my chest, every instinct telling me to run, to keep going.
But as we round the corner, I feel it—someone's watching us.
I stop dead in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat. Max and Liam don't notice at first, but then Liam's sharp gaze flicks toward me. His eyes narrow. "What is it?"
I swallow hard, my voice barely a whisper. "I—I feel like someone's watching us."
Max turns to Liam, his face tense. "Are you sure we're not being followed?"
Liam doesn't respond immediately, but I see the flicker of concern in his eyes. He's scanning the street now, his movements sharp, calculated. He knows something's wrong, but he's not saying it.
"No one's behind us," he finally says, his voice controlled. But there's something in his tone that makes my stomach twist with unease.
Then I hear it. A sound. A low, guttural growl.
I freeze, my blood running cold.
"It's them," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "They've found us."
Liam's expression hardens as he turns to face us. "We don't have time to be subtle," he says, his voice intense. "We need to move—now."
I don't think. I just run. I hear Max behind me, his feet pounding the pavement as we race down the dark street, the growls growing louder, closer.
And then, without warning, I hear a scream—loud, piercing, and unmistakably familiar. My heart stops in my chest.
"Amara!"
I turn, my eyes wide with horror. It's Jaxon. He's standing at the far end of the street, a sinister grin on his face. Behind him, a group of figures emerge from the shadows, their faces obscured, their movements predatory.
"We're too late," Liam mutters under his breath, his face grim. "They've already set the trap."
Cliffhanger: Just as the figures begin to close in, a car screeches to a halt in front of us. The headlights blind me for a moment, but then the door opens, and I hear a voice—not Max, not Liam, someone else. "Get in. Now."