Thorn threw off the sheets and tried to get out of bed. Just then, rk Vance rushed back in, his eyes widening in rm bas /bhe ran to stop him.

“Sir. bWhat /bare you doing? Don’t move.

“You can’t get out of bed, sir. The doctor said your condition is serious. You have to stay here, or you could faceplications for the rest of your life.”

It’s her bagain/b. Thorn’s expression soured as rk forced him back onto the bed.

“Get off me. It’s my body, and I’ll do what I want. Stay out of my business. I’m checking out now, Thorn snapped. He couldn’t waste any

more time.

rk ced ba /bhand on his forehead. “Sir, I think you bhave /ba fever. Just lie down. You must feel dizzy and out of it. I’ll get the doctor. You need to rest. I’m responsible for your well–being”

Thorn was about to argue, but just as rk bsaid/b, ba /bbwave /bof dizziness washed over him. He felt foggy, exhausted, and desperately wanted to sleep.

‘Do I really have a fever? he wondered. It didn’t feel quite right.

rk let out ba /bsilent sigh of relief. That was close.

He wouldn’t let Thorn out of his sight. Not for a second. He wasn’t leaving this hospital.

Winifred Hart sat in a small diner, eating. A message popped up from Rowena re, saying her shoot had gone perfectly today, with bevery /bscene done in one take. bShe /basked when Winifred was bing /bback.

Winifred bit into a noodle, but just as she bwas /babout to reply, a chill ran bdown /bher spine. Her eyes went cold. She snapped her phone bshut /band pulled the brim of her cap down low.

She wolfed down the brest /bof her food, pped some cash on the table, and just as a hand was babout /bto touch her bshoulder/bb, /bshe shot up from her seat. She slipped out of the bdiner /band darted toward awork of bback /balleys.

“Don’t let her get awayb./bb” /b

Winifred moved like a phantom through the maze of streets, but her pursuers were skilled and relentless. They were clearly professionals.

Fine. Time to end bthis/b. She thought.

Winifred lured them into a deserted, crumbling alley and, ducking into the shadows, readied her weapon.

“Where’d she go?” One of the pursuers asked.

“I saw her run in here.” Another replied.

“Be careful. This woman is dangerous.”

“Stay sharp. Our orders are to eliminate the target on sight.”

“Roger that.”

In the gloom, Winifred’s dark eyes locked onto her enemies. The night and the drizzling brain /bconcealed herpletely.

The moment a raindrop pattered against a nearby stic bottle, she fired.

Ten minutester, Winifred pulled her cap down, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and bwalked /bbriskly out of the alley. As she walked, she stripped off her outer jacket band /bgloves, revealing a in white hoodie underneath. She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and put on a pair of sses and headphones.

10:25 AM ?

10

She strolled confidently down the main street, brushing past the very men sent as backup for her pursuers. None of them gave her a second nce.

Back at the hotel, Winifred kicked the door open and sent Ryan Lowell flying. “Your intel was trash,” she said, her voice dangerously calm. “Exin yourself.”

Ryan scrambled to bhis /bfeet, brushing himself off “Winifred, it’s my fault. I bwas /bcareless. I didn’t dig deep enough. It bwas /bba /bsetup, designed to draw you out.”

Winifred stared at him, her eyes bloodshot. “Ryan, do you have any y idea how close I came to not making it back?”

Tears streamed down Ryan’s face. “Winifred I… I’m so sorry.”

He knew his ipetence was to me. He had almost gotten her killed.

He didn’t deserve to be by her side. He was a liability, aplete band /butter screw–up bwho /bcouldn’t even handle one simple task.

“Just hit bme/b, Winifred. Please.” Ryan choked ouL

AD