Cassian’s Pov;

The road back to the city stretched out like a scar, long, silent, and endless.

By the time the first checkpoint faded behind us, the adrenaline had burned away, leaving only the smell of smoke and blood in its place.

Naomi sat in the back seat, her head resting against the window, eyes half-open but distant. Every few minutes the truck hit a bump and she flinched; she tried to hide it, but I saw. Her wrists were red and raw where the chains had been.

Mara drove, one hand steady on the wheel, the other on the radio, speaking in short bursts to our safe-house teams. Rubio...