Meanwhile...
The safehouse was buried deep in the outskirts of Baja California — nestled behind rusted fences, dry desert shrubs, and walls lined with security systems only the paranoid or hunted would use.
Helena sat in the shadows, the glow of a small television flickering across her tired features. She hadn’t aged much in the years since she vanished, but the lines around her eyes had deepened — carved from silence, regret, and secrets too dangerous to speak aloud.
On screen, grainy footage of a fire played again and again — the warehouse Lena and the Reapers had raided. The flames devoured everything. The reporter’s voice was muffled, but the headline was loud and clear:
"Suspected Cartel Retaliation Kills Several in Underground Warehouse Blast"
Helena’s tea slipped from her finge
