Naomi’s Pov;

The wind howled against the factory walls that night, rattling loose panes of glass like the ghosts of the place were whispering through them. Sleep wouldn’t come. Every sound set my nerves on edge, the hum of the power lines, the drip of condensation through the pipes.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the transmitter Rubio mentioned.

If someone had been leaking data for months, it meant the Syndicate had been watching long before the explosion. Maybe even before Cassian saved me.

That thought is rooted too deeply to ignore.

So I slipped out of bed, laced my boots, and followed the hum beneath the floor.

The air in...