Raven wished, with a desperation she had never known before, that everything would dissolve into darkness again. That the fall had killed her. That this was not reality.
Because if this was real, then fate had a twisted sense of humor.
She had been hired to assassinate him.
And now she was lying in a hospital—under his protection.
Or his captivity.
She kept her breathing slow and even, forcing her body into stillness as she pretended to remain unconscious.
Every rise and fall of her chest was carefully measured and controlled. If she gathered enough strength, she could still escape. She just needed time. Time to think. Time to understand how she had ended up here instead of dead at the bottom of that cliff.
Fragments of memory flickered behind her closed eyelids—the cold night air, the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears, the sharp sting of impact, and then nothing.
She should have died. Yet she hadn't. 'And now it's time to move'
Suddenly silence fell into the room, and in that very tranquility she realized there were no footsteps. No voices. No machines beeping in urgency. Only the faint hum of electricity and the distant murmur of life beyond the walls.
Slowly, carefully, Raven snapped her eyes open.
Her gaze swept across the room, sharp and alert despite the weakness in her limbs. White walls. A metal tray. A single chair in the corner. No visible restraints. No guards inside.
That alone made her uneasy.
People like him did nothing without purpose.
Moving with extreme caution, she shifted her weight and slid one foot off the bed. The cold floor sent a jolt up her spine, but she didn't react. Pain was familiar. Pain was nothing.
Raven had already made her decision.
'It was time.'
She rose to her feet, her movements silent despite the dizziness clawing at her senses. Every instinct screamed at her to move fast—but haste led to mistakes, and mistakes led to death.
She reached the door and paused, pressing herself against the wall beside it. Slowly, she pushed it open just enough to peer into the hallway.
'Empty.'
But not unguarded.
Her sharp eyes immediately located the surveillance cameras installed along the corridor. Small. Precise. Watching everything.
Of course they had saved her, but not out of mercy. They wanted something. Information. Names. Her clan.
A faint, cold smile touched her lips. 'They had made a mistake if they thought she would break.'
Raven slipped out of the room, her steps measured and calculated. She kept her head lowered, her movements natural, timing her steps with the slow rotation of the cameras. She stayed close to the blind spots, slipping through the corridor like a ghost.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
She reached a changing room and slipped inside, closing the door without a sound.
Inside, she moved quickly, discarding the hospital gown and changing into a set of spare clothes left behind—plain and forgettable. The kind that blended in with the crowd. She pulled her hair back and grabbed a discarded mask, securing it over her face.
When she was finished, she opened the door and returned to the corridor, her posture relaxed and her pace steady. She did not run.
Each step carried her closer to freedom until she slipped out of the building and into the open air, the daylight greeting her like an old ally.
She was alive.
And she was not done yet.
***
"Ha… now that's what I call refreshing."
Raven slammed the empty glass of lemonade onto the table with more force than necessary and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. The cold drink had done little to satisfy her, but at least it had washed away the bitter, metallic dryness clinging to her throat.
Her original plan had been simple—escape the hospital and return to her hideout.
Simple plans, however, had a way of collapsing the moment reality intervened.
The moment she stepped out into the open, her body had betrayed her. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else, weak and unreliable. Each step drained what little strength she had left. And the hunger—God, the hunger—was unbearable. It clawed at her insides like a living thing, demanding attention.
Apparently, surviving a fall off a cliff and waking up from near death came with side effects.
Inconvenient ones.
Fortunately, whoever she had stolen the clothes from had been generous enough to carry cash. Raven had almost felt offended on their behalf. Careless. Sloppy.
Useful.
Which was how she now found herself sitting in a small roadside café instead of vanishing into the shadows like she was supposed to.
"Ma'am, here's your order."
The waiter placed a plate in front of her—burger, fries, and salvation in its most basic form. He smiled politely.
Raven returned the smile. A rare, fleeting thing. The kind she used when she wanted people to underestimate her.
The moment he walked away, the smile vanished.
She grabbed the burger and took a large bite, devouring it without hesitation. She didn't bother with appearances or manners. She ate like someone who had been starved for days—which, in her defense, she practically had been.
If anyone was judging her, they were welcome to try surviving blood loss, betrayal, and a cliff dive before commenting on etiquette.
She reached for the fries next, eating quickly, efficiently. Fuel. That was all this was. Fuel to get her moving again.
Her gaze drifted toward the glass window beside her.
And that was when she saw him.
A boy stood across the street, small and still with a backpack, his head turning slightly as if searching for something. Or someone.
He didn't belong there.
He wasn't playing. He wasn't walking with purpose. He just stood there.
Lost.
"Is he lost?" she muttered under her breath, wiping sauce from her lips with her thumb.
She watched him for another second, her instincts sharpening automatically. Observation was second nature. Awareness kept her alive.
But then she clicked her tongue softly and looked away.
"That's not my concern."
It wasn't.
Children. Civilians. Strangers. They were not her responsibility. Caring was a liability, and liabilities got you killed.
She forced herself to focus on her food, reaching for her lemonade again, only to realize it was empty.
'Tragic,' but then her eyes flicked back to the window without her permission, only to realize the spot across the street was empty.
"Huh."
Raven frowned slightly, leaning back just enough to get a wider view of the street.
Nothing. No boy. No movement. No trace that he had ever been there.
Her fingers stilled against the table.
"Just where did he go?"
Children didn't just vanish in seconds. Not without reason.
And for reasons she couldn't quite explain, the hunger in her stomach suddenly became the least of her concerns.