The door swung open faster than Mila expected, the movement sharp and forceful.
If she was capable, she would have jumped just a bit, but the drugs that Isabelle had given her was still coursing through her veins. She couldn't see clearly through the haze still clouding her vision, couldn't process the shape moving through the doorway quickly enough to identify who it was before they were already inside the room.
Her mind registered the possibility of danger first, the instinct flaring even as her body refused to respond with the speed she needed, her muscles still heavy and uncooperative beneath the weight of whatever Isabelle had given her.
Then she saw his face.
Markus.
The recognition hit her with enough force that something inside her chest loosened immediately. The tension she had been holding since Isabelle had walked into the room dropping away in a single, controlled exhale.
