Vanessa's POV.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me something was wrong.

The knock came slower than usual. Three soft taps. Not urgent. Careful. I already knew what it meant before I pulled the door open.

Nico stood there with that face…the one he wore when something had gone terribly wrong. Like everything had changed.

My stomach twisted.

"What?" I asked, voice dry.

He hesitated, his eyes moving toward the small, dim lamp in the corner of the abandoned office space we now used as a safehouse. This place stunk of bleach, old dust, and regret. The carpet was torn. The windows sealed with thick curtains. It was the kind...