Amaya's pov 

 The tension in the apartment is suffocating.

 We've been planning for hours. Maps spread across the table, surveillance schedules, contingency plans. My head is spinning with logistics and what-ifs and the very real possibility that we're about to do something incredibly stupid.

 "I need a break," I announce, pushing back from the table. "My brain is fried."

 "We need to finalize the—" Luciano starts.

 "We need to not burn out before we even start," I interrupt. "Five minutes. Please."

 He studies me, then nods. "Five minutes."

 I escape to the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Lean against it and just breathe for a moment. Cara's gone. The...