Harrison's words about sleeper agents lingered in the air like a toxic cloud. The atmosphere in the small conference room had grown stifling, despite the bunker's efficient ventilation system. I sat rigid in my chair, my fingers nervously tracing the grain of the wooden table as we tried to process this new threat.
"So we're looking for someone who knows our movements, our safe houses," Kaelen summarized, his voice carrying that deadly calm that always preceded his most dangerous moments. "Someone close enough to have access but not so obvious that we'd immediately suspect them."
Ronan had joined us after speaking briefly with Lyra, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. Whatever had transpired between them hadn't fully resolved their tension.
"Do we have any suspects?" I asked, hating how paranoid I sounded. These were our people, our inner circle—the thought of betrayal from within felt like acid in my stomach.
