Romance

  Brett&#39;s Perspective
  What we&#39;re doing lately? The coolest thing ever. Seriously, tops anything I&#39;ve ever done—*planning a prison break*. Me, Brett, legit scheming how to bust out of this creepy joint.
  Okay, not just &quot;me.&quot; &quot;Us.&quot; Besides Luka, we&#39;ve cautiously brought in two others. Scarface—quiet, vicious, with an eagle eye for detail. And &quot;Rat&quot;—skinny, agile, ears like a bat, always catching whispers from the corners. We chose them because they can keep their mouths shut, and more importantly, they have the same look in their eyes—the will to live, the fear of just… vanishing. Luka shared a bit about the &quot;disappearances&quot; with them. That was enough. Nobody wants to be next.
  Our little group operates in the shadows. During yard time, we mix it up in fake scuffles to exchange whispers. After lights-out, we hold meetings with cod

  Brett&#39;s Perspective
  Running.
  Damn it all, just pure, adrenaline-fueled, lung-searing *running*. The cold air scraped my throat like ground glass. Every ragged breath tasted of iron and distant rot. My right arm screamed with a dull, throbbing ache—a deep gash from the pipe, maybe a pulled muscle. It hung useless, a disobedient ragdoll limb throwing off my balance as I stumbled over rubble and mud, almost eating dirt half a dozen times.
  But all four of us were moving. Luka was on my left, wheezing like a broken bellows, but his eyes were terrifyingly bright. Scarface was ahead to the right, moving through the debris with the agile grace of a true predator. Rat brought up the rear, his skinny frame lurching but never stopping.
  Behind us, the prison sirens had faded to a blurred, constant background whine. But another sound was closer, deadlier—the barking of dogs. Not the yap

  Aurora &#39;s Perspective
  The car sped along the road back to the estate. Outside, the city lights streamed by like a cold, distant galaxy. Lex drove in focused silence, throwing me the occasional worried glance. The only sounds were the engine&#39;s low growl and the hiss of the heater.
  The lead from Marta was like a rusty fishhook lodged deep in my mind. A sliver of hope, vanishingly small, yet impossible to ignore. Wait for Marta&#39;s people to make discreet inquiries? Wait for that junkie who might never wake up coherent? Every passing second felt like another weight added to the scales of whatever torment Brett might be enduring. The image of Uncle Jacob&#39;s bloodshot eyes and Aunt Selena&#39;s silently trembling shoulders wouldn&#39;t leave me.
  A frantic, burning anxiety churned in my gut, hotter than the alcohol I&#39;d consumed. I stared at the faint glow of my phone s

Brett&#39;s Perspective
  What we&#39;re doing lately? The coolest thing ever. Seriously, tops anything I&#39;ve ever done—*planning a prison break*. Me, Brett, legit scheming how to bust out of this creepy joint.
  Okay, not just &quot;me.&quot; &quot;Us.&quot; Besides Luka, we&#39;ve cautiously brought in two others. Scarface—quiet, vicious, with an eagle eye for detail. And &quot;Rat&quot;—skinny, agile, ears like a bat, always catching whispers from the corners. We chose them because they can keep their mouths shut, and more importantly, they have the same look in their eyes—the will to live, the fear of just… vanishing. Luka shared a bit about the &quot;disappearances&quot; with them. That was enough. Nobody wants to be next.
  Our little group operates in the shadows. During yard time, we mix it up in fake scuffles to exchange whispers. After lights-out, we hold meetings with coded taps on pipes or breaths of speech so low they&#39;re almost thoughts. It&#39;s part military re

Chapter 267