Jasmine's POV
The night air was cold enough to sting my skin, but I did not stop walking. My hands were shaking… from anger, from adrenaline, from the argument I had just left behind… but I kept moving.
I was not going back. Not tonight.
I called a bike, gave the rider an address I had not spoken aloud in years, and held on as the city lights blurred around me.
When we stopped in front of the small, run-down cyber café hidden between two abandoned buildings, the rider glanced back at me.
"You sure this is the place?"
"Yes." My voice was steady, even though my chest felt tight. "This is it."
I paid him and walked toward the glittering neon sign that read BYTEHAVEN. The windows were tinted. The door looked half-broken. But the moment I stepped inside, warm air and the soft hum of computers wrapped around me like a familiar shadow.
The café smelled like burnt wires, cheap coffee, and old secrets.
