The night seemed to go on forever, the shadows extending past the horizon as though the entire world had engulfed them.
Lily's heart pounded against her ribs as she stood motionless. Red and blue lights flickered over the tarmac as the thunderous shriek of sirens reverberated in the air. However, it was all insufficient to mask the nauseating insight that was churning within her.
Carlisle had left.
Once more.
As she feverishly searched the airfield for any trace of him, her pulse was erratic and her breathing was irregular. He had been there, pinned under Ethan's hold, the battle all but finished, so it didn't make sense.
However, he was no longer there.
Like a ghost that eludes their grasp.
Ethan's face was grim as he gripped his injured shoulder. Although his rifle was by his side and his knuckles were white, Lily understood that the fight against the bruises and bullets wasn't the real one.
It was the fight to avoid failure.
