Lawrence.
I leaned back in the heavy leather chair in the primary war room, running a hand over my face as the quiet hum of the computer monitors filled the dimly lit room. Leonard was leaning against the central tactical table, his arms crossed over his chest, while Lurgard paced a slow, steady path near the glass display map showing our outer border posts.
For the first time in what felt like weeks, the suffocating weight in my chest had finally loosened its grip.
"She's actually asleep," I said softly, looking down at the small tablet in my hand.
I pulled up the silent, high-definition camera feed from the upper wing. On the screen, the hallway outside Theresa's suite was completely peaceful. Nora was sitting upright on a high-backed chair right beside the door, her tablet resting on her knee, her expression a mask of calm, lethal focus. The digital indicator on the door lock glowed a steady green—Do Not Disturb.
