Chapter 9 Are You Really Noah

No one dared to stop us—not even Maverick. He could only lie sprawled on the floor, watching helplessly as Noah carried me out the doors. Outside, there was no battered bicycle, just a black Cadillac One, fitted with a special clearance plate. Two rows of armed soldiers stood beside it. The moment they saw Noah, they snapped to attention and saluted in unison. "Good evening, Commander Stillman!" Their voices thundered into the night. Noah carefully placed me in the back seat. Bulletproof windows slid up, sealing off all the noise and chaos outside. The car pulled away. I curled up in the corner, stealing glances at Noah beside me, who had closed his eyes to rest. For the first time, he felt like a stranger. Carefully, I asked, "Are you… Really, Noah?" He opened his eyes and turned to look at me. In that instant, he was the same awkward, gentle man again. He scratched the back of his head and reflexively pushed up his imaginary glasses, which were previously crushed at the hospit