Ann pressed her back harder against the wooden box, her fingers curling into the rough grain as she listened to the faint, deliberate sound of metal scraping against stone. The noise was slow, almost thoughtful, as if Riley were savoring each step she took closer. The sound alone made Ann's throat tighten.
She knew why Riley was searching for her. That much was clear.
Yet what Ann couldn't understand, what unsettled her far more than the threat itself, was the desperation behind it. Riley wasn't merely looking for answers. She was frantic, cornered, as though time itself were gnawing at her heels.
Isaac's warning echoed in Ann's mind, haunting her like a ghost: Trust no one.
