Inside the sleek black SUV cutting through the night, Maya's voice broke through the silence like a gunshot.
"Turn around, Yamal!" she yelled, pounding her fists against the dashboard. "We can't leave him!"
Her breath came in ragged bursts. The forest blurred outside the windows, but all she could think about was the flames. The clash. The look Mark gave her before he told her to run.
Yamal's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his eyes fixed on the road. "We're following Mark's orders."
"Orders?" she snapped. Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotion. "He's fighting Alexander alone. That's not a plan. That's a death sentence."
Ezra sat in the front passenger seat, his eyes hard. "Maya, listen. We don't have the numbers, or the strength, to help him right now. We'd only get in his way."
