The coordinates resolve into something that makes my stomach drop before my mind fully catches up.
An abandoned subway station.
The words form slowly, like my brain is trying to protect me from them. I stare at the tablet in Damian’s hands, at the grainy satellite image pulled tight with sharp lines and shadows. Concrete tunnels carved beneath the city. Platforms swallowed by darkness. Water pooled where trains once ran, reflecting light in a way that feels wrong. A dead artery beneath the streets, sealed off and ignored until someone needed a place where sound would not carry and no one would come looking.
Of course Adrian chose it.
“He planned this,” I say quietly, more to myself than to anyone else.
“Yes,” Damian replies.
The safe house does not feel safe anymore. It hums with act
