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Something is wrong with Aiden.

“What happened?” I ask in a voice I don’t recognise.

Ethan shows me his phone.

Agnus: There’s been activity at the basement’s lock in Birmingham’s mansion.

“Elsa went back to the basement,” Ethan murmurs. “It doesn’t make sense. If they went more than two days ago, why haven’t they returned?”

“Aiden is a survivor,” I say with finality.

“So is Elsa.”

I bark at the driver to change the direction to Birmingham.

It all ends where it started.

38

Aiden

I’ve been slamming my shoulder against the metal door for the past hour or so.

My dominant left shoulder is safely dislocated, so I switch to my right one.

I tried everything from pushing to pulling and even kicking. They’re all useless against a fucking metal door.

Logically, I recognised that, but I still didn’t stop. It’s the only way we’ll get out of here.

In between, I’ve been soaking my pullover with water and placing it around Elsa’s head.

She’s been slipping in and out of consciousness, mumbling feverish things about her brother, her

mother, and her dad. She was even having a conversation with Eli in a language that doesn’t sound like English.

The worse her state becomes, the harder I kick the damn door.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The bitter taste of desperation is reminiscent to how I felt when I hit the door ten years ago. Back then, I thought she died. Back then, I lost hope.

But not now.

She can’t fucking die.

“Aiden…” Her croaked voice is like a rush of adrenaline, tightening my muscles.

I leave the door and descend the stairs two at a time to reach her. She’s sprawled on her side, eyes closed and face pale. It’s even paler than earlier. I touch her cheek and it’s on fire — even worse than before.

Fuck.

I grab my pullover, pour cold water on it, then place it back on her head.

“Aiden…” she mumbles in her feverish haze.

Her pupils move rapidly behind her closed lids. She must be dreaming.

I sit on the floor and let my dislocated shoulder fall limp. It hurts like a bitch when I move it. My attempts to push it back were it belongs have failed miserably.


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