chapter 3: Near death

The safehouse was silent except for Kiran's ragged breathing. She sat curled on the couch, a blanket around her shoulders, staring at the rain sliding down the window like tears. Detective Vin moved methodically through the dimly lit rooms, double-checking locks and peering through curtains for shadows lurking outside.

Kiran's mind spun in frantic circles. Images of Clef's twisted anger replayed every time she closed her eyes: his wild eyes, his hand gripping her hair, the way he'd promised no one else would have her. And Maryelin smiling, vibrant Mary lying lifeless on that hospital bed. Guilt and fear clawed at her chest, making every breath feel like drowning.

Vin set his coffee on the table with a soft clink, pulling Kiran out of her thoughts. "You should try to sleep," he said quietly. "You haven't rested since yesterday."

"I can't," she whispered, voice hoarse. "Every time I close my eyes, I see her."

He paused, the lines of exhaustion etched deep into his face. "I know. But you need your strength. Whoever killed Maryelin they don't want you alive to talk."

As Vin turned back to the window, Kiran's phone buzzed on the table. She flinched, snatching it up. An unknown number. A single message blinked on the screen:

You can't hide forever.

She dropped the phone as if it had burned her.

"Who is it?" Vin demanded, already striding over.

Kiran's hands shook as she handed him the phone. His eyes darkened as he read the text. "Stay here," he ordered, sliding his gun from its holster and slipping out the front door into the storm.

Kiran watched the door swing shut. Every second stretched unbearably. The only sounds were the tick of the clock and her own thudding heartbeat.

Suddenly, a floorboard creaked behind her.

She whirled around. A tall, hooded figure loomed in the hallway. Before she could scream, he lunged knocking her to the floor. She gasped as the air left her lungs, clawing at the intruder's hands as they closed around her neck.

Her eyes darted around desperately. Broken glass from a vase glinted near the couch. She stretched her fingers, straining. His grip tightened. Black spots swam in her vision.

Then she felt cool glass in her palm.

With a desperate cry, she swung the shard upward, slicing across his cheek. He roared, jerking back just enough for her to scramble away, gasping. She staggered into the kitchen only to find herself cornered against the counter.

The man advanced, blood dripping from his face. "You don't know what you've started," he rasped, voice low and venomous.

A deafening gunshot split the room.

The man jerked, eyes wide, before collapsing in a heap. Detective Vin stood behind him, gun smoking in his hands, eyes blazing with rage.

Kiran fell to her knees, sobbing. Vin kicked the intruder's gun away, then knelt beside her, checking her pulse, brushing damp hair from her face. "You're okay," he murmured, though his voice trembled. "You're safe."

But she didn't feel safe. Not even close.

Vin patted the intruder's pockets, finding a key card labeled CONSORTIUM LAB in bold, block letters. He held it up, face grim. "This wasn't just Clef," he said. "There's something bigger at play here something Mary knew about. We need to find out what."

Sirens howled in the distance. Flashing red and blue lights reflected off the rain-soaked windows as police cars approached.

Vin helped Kiran to her feet. She tried to steady her shaking legs, leaning on him as they stepped into the stormy night. As they walked down the porch steps, a dark silhouette watched from across the street, barely visible between sheets of rain eyes glinting like a predator.

The storm swallowed them as they climbed into Vin's car and drove away, unaware that the true hunt had only just begun.