The abandoned chapel was crumbling at the edges. Ivy strangled the brick walls, and the glass windows had long been shattered. But Leon saw the signs.
Ash on the ground.
A confession booth recently disturbed.
And behind the altar, wedged between two loose stones, a half-burned photograph.
He crouched and pulled it free. His fingers froze.
Ayla.
She was younger—maybe nineteen—standing beside Daniel Monroe. She looked different. Tougher. Leaner. There was blood on her knuckles and fire behind her eyes.
Not the Ayla he knew.
Not the Ayla she'd shown him.
Leon rose slowly, pocketing the photo.
"She lied."
⸻
POV: Ayla
She could feel the walls closing in.
Her phone buzzed—an unknown number. No message. Just static when she answered. She hung up and turned off the phone.
Leon hadn't returned since morning. Something told her he found something. And when he did…
Would he still protect her?
She walked to the mirror, staring at the woman looking back.
"You're not that girl anymore," she told herself.
But Daniel didn't believe that. He wanted her to be the same girl he'd built from trauma and chaos. And maybe, deep down, part of her still was.
The knock on the door snapped her out of it.
It was Nico.
"Boss wants you in the study. Now."
⸻
POV: Leon
She entered slowly, like she already knew what he'd found.
He held up the photo. Said nothing.
Her face crumbled for a second. Just a second.
Then she looked him in the eyes and said, "I can explain."
Leon's voice was calm—but sharp enough to cut bone. "I don't need an explanation. I need the truth."
She stepped forward. "You want the truth?"
He nodded.
"Then you'll have to hear what I did. What we did. Back when there was no one to save us."