Chapter 11 · What Cole Never Said

The note says three words.

*They're coming tonight.*

Rena's still holding the blood vial. The paper's wrapped tight around the glass, pencil smudged like whoever wrote it was shaking. I don't ask who left it. I already know.

One of the women in those files. One of the fifteen still locked in the medical wing.

Cole's at the window. He hasn't moved in two minutes. Just standing there with his shoulders tight and his hand flat against the frame like he's listening to something I can't hear.

"How long do we have?" I ask.

Rena checks her watch. "If they're moving at night, maybe four hours. Maybe less."

"Then we move now."

"With what?" Rena's voice cracks. "You just destroyed the only leverage we had. The samples, the documentation, all of it—"

"We were never going to win with paperwork." I grab the files off the table. Fifteen faces. Fifteen names. Some I don't recognize. Some I do. "You said the medical wing's on the north side. How many guards?"

"Six. Maybe eight if they rotated after the last transport." She's staring at me like I've lost it. "Ivy, you can't just walk in there.