Chapter Twenty-Three— A MOLE
Zahid wasn't in his bedroom, he was patrolling the house, he didn't want to step out today but he needed to stroll, to let out some steam, so he walked inside the house, from one hallway to the other, from one balcony to the other.
The house wasn't noisy, except the sound of his footsteps, but it also wasn't calm. There was a strange heaviness in the early morning air, like the walls themselves were awake and listening.
Angel didn't feel any of it.
Well, she was still asleep, curled up beside Mara, exhausted from everything she had been holding in.
But someone else in the house was very much awake.
Malik.
He sat cross-legged on the rug, tablet dimmed low, eyes fixed on one thing:
the man's trail blinking red on the map.
The stranger had returned to the street twice in the night.
Malik hadn't woken Mara for those alerts; she'd been trembling in her sleep, and he didn't want her crying again.
