Page 88 of Ronan

When they drag me back to my cell, my legs won’t hold me. I collapse against the wall, shaking violently.

The lights stay on.

The sound system stays silent.

That’s worse.

I press my forehead to the concrete and choke on the truth burning my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the emptiness. “I’m so sorry.” Even though I tell them nothing that matters, I still feel guilty.

Down the corridor, I hear a sound.

A chain rattling.

A voice—faint, furious, unmistakable.

“Jonah.”

My breath catches.

Someone knows. They think I told them everything. They don’t know it was nothing.

Someone heard.

And in that moment, the shame is worse than any punishment they ever gave me.

Because I didn’t just break, to them.

I endangered the only man who ever came back for us.

And somewhere above ground—if he’s alive.

Ronan Pierce is moving.

And I pray I didn’t make his job harder.

36

Ronan

Location: Outer Banks, North Carolina — Pre-Dawn

I’m awake before the alert hits.

That’s how I know it’s bad.

No nightmare. No sound. Just a sudden, brutal certainty settling into my chest like a blade.

Something gave.

I sit up slowly, scanning the room out of habit—windows, doors, corners. Lena sleeps beside me, curled on her side, breathing even.

Safe.

For now.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand.