This is bad.
This is so, so bad.
I have to run.
I have to?—
“I wouldn’t bother,” Mikhail continues, almost amused. “I don’t know where you are yet, but I will soon.”
Ice rushes through my veins.
Because he’s right.
I just pinged my location.
I just gave him a starting point.
The trap is already closing in.
“You made this easy for me,kiska,” he says, his tone almost gentle. “Now, be a good girl and stay put. We’ll see each other very soon.”
Then—
Click.
The line goes dead.
20
LILA
Isit there, frozen, my pulse hammering so loudly I can barely hear my own thoughts.
Mikhail knows.
He doesn’t know where I am yet—but he will.
I just signed my own death warrant.
The phone slides from my fingers, hitting the couch with a soft thud.
I don’t have time to panic.
I need to move.
I scramble up, my breath coming too fast, too shallow. My vision blurs as adrenaline surges through me.
I don’t even know where to go—where I could possibly hide next. But one thing is certain: I can’t stay in Camden Hill.
I grab the small duffel bag from the closet, my fingers shaking as I shove clothes inside. My stomach twists violently, the babiesshifting uncomfortably inside me as if they know something is wrong.
I have to protect them.
I stuff in my money, my fake IDs, everything I can fit.
The plan I had—the one I had been waiting for—is gone.
This was supposed to be my last stretch of safety.