Levi stumbles forward, his composure shattering. "No, no, no..." His voice breaks on each word. "Not again. Please, not again."

There's an empty syringe on the bedside table. I take in more details—the restraints hanging loose from the bed posts, the fresh needle marks in her arm, the unnatural color of her skin.

"Sunny?" Levi's whisper fills the sterile room. He reaches for her with trembling hands, hovering just above her bruised skin. "Angel, please..."

I watch him crumble, see the weight of every single moment of guilt, past and present, crystallize and crush him all over again. His shoulders shake as he sinks to his knees beside the bed. This scene—finding her broken and still—it's his worst nightmare made real. Again.

My eyes trace each injury. Cataloging. Evaluating.

Levi's breathing turns heavy, edging toward hysteria. We can't afford a breakdown, not now. Not when we still need to get her out. I step forward, pressing two fingers against her throat.

The pulse beneath my fingers is slow but steady.

"She's alive." The words cut through Levi's spiral. "Unconscious, but alive."

Relief floods his face as he sags against the bed.

I key my radio, keeping my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "We've got her. Basement level, west wing. Medical. Now."

The sound of boots in the hallway grows closer. I pull a blanket up from the end of the bed and drape it over her. My fingers brush her skin. She’s burning up, and something primal in me roars for blood.

"Z..." Levi's voice cracks. "I can't... not again..."

"She's alive," I repeat, firmer this time. "Focus on that. We got her back."

Chapter Fourteen

Sunny

Theworldswimsinand out of focus, while my thoughts scatter and float away just out of reach.

Pain radiates through my body, but it doesn't touch me. It's all far away and disconnected.

Blood. The taste fills my mouth, metallic and familiar. Or maybe I just remember it.

Maybe it's not from now. Maybe it's from last time. Or the time before that.

The drugs make me float.

I wonder if this is what heaven feels like. I hope not.

Angel—you know, like the fish….

"...running out of time..." Garrett's voice hovers somewhere above me, the words breaking apart before they reach my brain. I know he's there—I can feel him. But my eyes won't focus on him.

Rough hands grab my arms, lifting me. My head lolls back, and the ceiling spins in dizzying circles. The movement sendswaves of nausea through my stomach. I try to fight, to pull away, but my limbs are lead weights, useless and heavy. Nothing works. My head is stuffed full of cotton.

Here comes Peter Cottontail…

"…moving you… harder to find…"

Through the doorway, I catch glimpses of other women. Their faces blur together—pale smudges in the darkness. Someone's crying. The sound echoes off the walls.

Is that me? Am I making that noise? I wish I would stop. It hurts my ears.

The world tilts sideways as I'm tossed back onto a bed. Black pinpoint stars fill my vision, and suddenly I'm seventeen again, lying broken, frozen, while Levi walks away. The pain of it steals my breath.

A boom reverberates through the walls, followed by another. Like fireworks exploding on the Fourth of July, but muffled, distant.