"Stop asking questions," Caleb hissed as he led Avery down the dim passage. "Focus on walking."
The stone corridor was cold and damp, the faint sound of dripping water echoing around them. Avery's breath came in shallow gasps, her heart racing. She gripped the edge of her torn sleeve, her fingers trembling as they hurried through the twisting path.
"I need to know," she pressed, her voice low but firm. "If we make it out of here, how do I know Liam won't send the rest of his men after us? After Ethan?"
Caleb stopped abruptly, spinning around to face her. His expression was hard, his jaw tight. "You don't know," he said bluntly. "But staying here guarantees that he'll succeed in whatever twisted plan he has for Ethan. Is that what you want?"
"No," Avery said quickly, her voice shaking. "I just—"
"Then stop second-guessing and keep moving," Caleb interrupted, his tone sharp. "We're running out of time."
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