The car didn't slow for a long time.
Dante kept driving like stopping meant giving whatever was chasing them a second chance to catch up. The streets blurred past, one turn after another, sharp, deliberate, unpredictable. Camille sat back against the seat, her breathing slowly evening out, but nothing else about her felt calm.
Because even though the signal was gone
The feeling wasn't.
It lingered inside her like a quiet echo of what she had just done.
No.
Not just done.
Used.
Her fingers twitched slightly in her lap.
Dante noticed.
"Talk to me," he said.
She exhaled slowly. "I'm trying to figure out if I should."
"That's not a good sign."
"No," she admitted. "It's not."
Silence stretched between them for a few seconds before she finally spoke again.
"When I broke that system… it didn't feel like before."
"You said that."
