Back in the common room, Patrick pulled Leo aside. "We need to watch him."
Leo smirked bitterly. "Finally catching up? The guy's a lunatic. Keeping a piece of those things locked up here—what happens if it gets out?"
Patrick lowered his voice. "We can't abandon this place. Not yet. But we keep our eyes open."
Leo's expression hardened. "If he endangers us, I'll put a knife in his throat myself."
Maya overheard, her voice sharp. "Don't talk like that. He's helping us."
"Helping himself," Leo snapped back.
The argument flared, voices rising, until Evelyn stepped between them. "Stop. We can't tear each other apart. That's what the shadows want."
Silence followed. But the damage lingered.
That night, Patrick couldn't sleep. The cot creaked as he sat up, staring at the ceiling.
A soft sound drifted through the vents. At first, he thought it was wind. Then he realized: whispers.
Carlos's voice.
Patrick…
He froze. The voice was faint, but clear, curling into his ears.
