Layla
Marco’s factory loomed in the distance, its hulking silhouette black against the faded night sky of the never-dark city. The SUV’s tinted windows blocked out much of the glow spilling from the behemoth building’s security floodlights, but that almost made it feel more eerie.
The air inside the car was stifling, choking, even though the cracked windows let in cool night air. I thought it likely had more to do with my racing thoughts and racing heart than the actual air temperature.
I was, in short, f*****g terrified.
Every detail of the plan played on repeat through my head. Each scenario, each contingency, looping around over and over and over. If this happens, do this … but if this happens, do this instead …
We’d prepared for as much as we could, but there was no such thing as
