The red ink on the crumpled receipt looked like dried blood.
A pair of wings. Vangels.
I stared at it, and the noise of the school courtyard seemed to drop away, replaced by the phantom hum of the air conditioning in that underground lounge.
I looked at Lia. She was leaning against the tree, her arms crossed tight across her chest. Her face, usually so composed and sly, had drained of color. She met my gaze, and for a split second, the mask slipped.
Fear. Genuine fear.
She knew. I knew. We were the only two people here who understood that Vangels wasn't just a website. It was a physical place with armed guards and soundproofed walls.
"Mike..." Sebastian muttered, breaking the silence. He stepped closer to Sarah, his usual carefree grin completely gone. "Sarah, breathe. Tell us exactly what the police said."
