{ Mia }
The door creaked open, too slow for a burglar, too smooth for a neighbor.
I pressed my back against the wall, every muscle tight, breath shallow. My heart thudded once, heavy in my chest, then settled into a calm rhythm. Controlled. Focused.
I wasn't scared. Not anymore. I was ready.
Moonlight spilled across the floor in a sharp line, just enough for me to catch the glint of a boot. One of them had stepped inside.
I didn't move.
Shadows split. Two of them. Trained. Deliberate. One peeled off toward the hallway, the other crept into the living room. Their flashlights carved up the darkness, slicing it into trembling lines across the walls.
I crouched lower, finger hovering over the trigger on my wristband. One tap, and the house would turn into a trap.
But I waited.
I needed to see all of them. Count them. Read their patterns.
Scarlett's voice whispered through my comms, steady and low. "Three confirmed inside. One outside near a black van. No heat signatures upstairs, your parents are still asleep."
I let out a quiet breath. Good.
The first one walked right beneath me, completely unaware of the golden web spread across the ceiling beams. I could hear the soft rasp of his breath through the vent.
I watched. I memorized his stride, his gear, the tension in his shoulders. They weren't here to talk.
They were here to take me.
My fingers flexed against the metal vent. I could take him now. Drop down, knock him out cold before he could blink.
But not yet.
I needed more. I needed to know who sent them. Why now.
Another step. Closer.
I moved.
Silent. Fluid. Like a shadow slipping between shadows.
I slid through the narrow vent, metal cool against my palms as I crawled silently toward the vent leading into my room. My body moved on instinct now every movement practiced, efficient. I paused at the grate, peering down into the familiar shadows of my bedroom.
Empty.
Perfect.
I pushed the cover aside with barely a whisper and dropped lightly onto the floor, landing in a crouch beside my bed. I was back where I needed to be one step ahead.
Then I heard it.
The soft squeak of boots just beyond the door.
I bolted to the corner of the room, melting into the shadows. My fingers twitched as I reached into my belt, activating my latest trick an illusion projector, small enough to fit behind my ear. A shimmer pulsed through the room as it came to life.
And just like that… I was in bed.
Or at least, a version of me was. Sleeping peacefully. Completely vulnerable.
The door creaked open.
A man stepped in, eyes sweeping the room. He was tall, armed, breathing slow and steady like someone used to breaking into places in the dead of night. His gaze locked onto the figure in the bed, my illusion.
He relaxed.
"Target's here," he muttered into his mic. "She's asleep."
I watched from the shadows, silent. Waiting.
Then, just as he turned to leave, the door slammed open again.
Two more agents burst in, weapons raised.
"You idiot!" one of them barked. "What did we say about waiting on confirmation?"
The first guy flinched, stepping aside. "She's literally right there!"
The second one stared at the bed, then narrowed his eyes. "Too easy…"
He stepped closer.
I held my breath.
"Something's off," he muttered.
Scarlett's voice flickered in my ear. "Time to move?"
"Not yet," I whispered, barely audible.
I wanted them closer. Closer to the trap.
Let them think they had the upper hand, for now.
The second man circled the bed slowly, his eyes never leaving my illusion. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, but I stayed perfectly still, pressed into the corner, my back nearly fused to the wall.
"Doesn't feel right," he muttered again, reaching for something on his belt.
A scanner.
Damn it.
He raised it slowly, pointing it toward the bed. The blue light flicked on, sweeping over the illusion. My breath caught—this wasn't built to hold up under scans.
"Stop wasting time," the third agent snapped. "She's a kid, not a ghost."
But the scanner-man wasn't convinced. He crouched next to the bed, reaching toward the illusion's shoulder.
Scarlett hissed in my ear. "Mia. He touches it, game over."
I didn't respond. I couldn't.
His fingers were inches away.
I reached into my boot, thumbed the trigger on a tiny device, and tossed it silently across the room.
It landed with the faintest tap.
All three heads snapped toward the sound.
Weapons up.
The illusion lay still.
"I saw something," the cautious one growled, rising slowly.
"Clear that side," the leader ordered.
The first guy moved toward where the device had landed—far from me. Good.
The other two advanced, inching through my room with practiced formation, clearing corners, checking closets.
But not the ceiling.
Not the vent.
Not me.
I didn't move. I didn't blink.
"Might've been a rat," one muttered.
"Or she's not really asleep," the other said, eyes narrowing again at the bed.
I held my breath.
One step closer, and the illusion would flicker.
One second longer, and I'd have to act.
Then Scarlett's voice broke the silence, low and deliberate. "Mia. Code Whisper. You've got sixty seconds before the illusion drops."
Sixty seconds.
I counted every beat of my heart like a ticking clock.
They were still too close.
I needed a way out, fast.