The next day,

Author

The classroom was the same. Rows of desks. A whiteboard with diagrams of pack hierarchy. Windows that let in too much light. She sat in her usual seat - third row, left side, back to the wall - and tried to focus on the lecture.

She couldn't.

She hadn't slept. She'd spent the night pacing her quarters, drinking coffee that tasted like ash, staring at the wall where she'd pinned the mission dossier. The photograph of Malphas was still there. She'd looked at it a hundred times. She'd looked at it until his face blurred into the face of the man in the garden. Until Voss...