The subway rumbled beneath their feet, its rhythmic clatter barely audible over the pounding in Amelia's chest. She gripped the metal pole with one hand, the other still clutching Celeste's. Their fingers were intertwined—tight, desperate. Neither of them spoke.
The agent was gone. For now.
Amelia exhaled sharply, pressing her back against the train door. Her lungs burned from running, her mind a tangled mess of fear, adrenaline, and the thousand questions she didn't have time to process.
Celeste stood close, her body nearly flush against Amelia's. She was still barefoot, her dress slightly torn from their escape, strands of her hair falling in wild waves over her shoulders. She didn't look afraid, but she felt tense—Amelia could see it in the way her chest rose and fell a little too quickly, in the way her fingers trembled slightly where they touched Amelia's.
Amelia squeezed her hand. "You okay?"
Celeste nodded but didn't let go.
The train lurched forward. The lights overhead flickered for a brief second, casting eerie shadows across the walls. Celeste stiffened.
Amelia frowned. "Celeste?"
She didn't answer. Instead, her gaze flickered up, towards the subway ceiling, her brows knitting together. She was listening—feeling something.
Then, suddenly, she turned, her grip on Amelia tightening. "They're still following us."
Amelia's stomach dropped.
"How—"
Celeste shook her head. "I don't know. But they are."
Amelia glanced around, heart hammering. The subway car was crowded—too many people packed together, too many faces blending into a blur. Could one of the agents already be here?
The train screeched as it neared the next station.
Celeste turned to her. "We have to get off. Now."
Amelia nodded, her pulse quickening.
The doors hissed open, and they pushed their way through the sea of bodies, stepping onto the platform.
A split-second later, she saw them.
Not just the agent from before. More of them.
Suits. Dark coats. Hands brushing against concealed weapons.
They had been waiting.
Celeste grabbed Amelia's wrist and ran.
Their feet pounded against the platform, weaving between unsuspecting commuters. People shouted as they shoved past. The agents were closing in.
Celeste's hand was hot in Amelia's grip.
And then—
A hand caught Amelia's jacket.
She yelped as she was yanked backward, the force nearly knocking the air from her lungs.
"Let go of her!" Celeste's voice rang out like a crack of lightning.
The agent—tall, expressionless, too strong—didn't flinch. "You can't run forever."
Celeste's eyes glowed.
The air crackled.
And then—boom.
A pulse of golden energy burst from Celeste's fingertips, rippling through the station like a shockwave. Lights exploded. Glass shattered. A gust of unseen force sent people reeling, and the agent gripping Amelia was thrown backward, crashing into a metal bench.
Amelia staggered. "Jesus—"
Celeste was already pulling her forward, toward the emergency exit doors.
Alarms blared. The station was in chaos. People screamed.
The agents were recovering.
They pushed through the doors, bursting onto the city streets. The cold air hit them like a slap.
Amelia barely had time to process before Celeste grabbed her shoulders. "We can't keep running like this."
Amelia panted, shaking her head. "What else are we supposed to do? They won't stop—"
Celeste hesitated. Then, softly: "I need to remember."
Amelia froze.
Celeste's gaze was urgent, searching Amelia's face. "Something made me. Something brought me here. I don't know what, but I can feel it—I know it's connected to me. If I can remember, maybe I can stop them."
Amelia swallowed. "How?"
Celeste took a shaky breath. "I don't know yet. But we need to hide."
Amelia glanced behind them. The agents hadn't come through the emergency doors yet, but they would.
She turned back to Celeste.
Then she made a decision.
"I know a place."