The wind howled through the empty hills, carrying smoke and secrets.
They'd been walking for hours.
Lilly's legs ached. Sam's face was tight with quiet determination. Ava kept muttering something about "death marches" and "this is why I work alone" But nobody listened.
Because Lilly had that look in her eye again.
The one that meant she had a plan the one that meant it might kill them, but it just might work.
Finally, she stopped at what looked like a dead-end—a rocky cliff face, jagged and lifeless.
"We're here," she said.
Ava blinked "I don't see a five-star bunker with room service, babe."
Sam tilted her head "Here Seriously?"
Lilly knelt, brushing dirt off a rusted metal hatch almost buried in the ground her fingers danced across a panel—tap tap swipe—and the rock clicked.
The ground groaned.
A massive slab of stone hissed aside, revealing a spiral staircase descending into shadows laced with LED strips like veins glowing in the dark.
"Jesus," Ava muttered "What is this a Bond villain's Airbnb?"
Lilly sighed. "My sister lives here."
A beat.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "You never mentioned you had a sister."
"She's not exactly… a 'mention casually at brunch' kind of sister."
Inside was all steel and luxury wrapped in weaponized chaos, glowing screens, armories a massive circular table like something out of a war room everything screamed money, brilliance, and danger.
And then came the voice—silken, sharp, venom-laced.
"Did hell freeze over, or did my favorite disappointment come crawling back?"
Lilly grimaced.
Maya stood in the center of the lair like she'd been sculpted out of wine and knives short black bob Combat boots a tank top that said "Not Your Trauma Dump" in bold red letters.
"Hi Maya," Lilly muttered.
Maya's eyes flicked over Sam with idle curiosity, then Ava—and froze.
"Oh," Maya said smile turning to glass "Her."
Ava crossed her arms "Don't flatter yourself, snake."
Sam looked between them "Wait—do you two know each other?"
"Oh, we know each other," Maya said, voice dripping venom. "She crashed my infiltration op in Prague called me a government reject Barbie, and left me handcuffed to a radiator."
Ava smirked. "Wasn't my best insult."
"I liked that radiator, Ava."
"Maya," Lilly stepped in, voice calm "We just need a place to lay low. Please."
Maya stared at her Her sister, the girl she hadn't seen in years, the one who always ran from their past.
Then she sighed—long, theatrical—and said "Fine purple hair stays, you stay."
She turned to Ava.
"She doesn't."
"Maya—" Lilly gave her the look Puppy eyes, soft lips, tired hope.
Maya groaned. "Ugh, fine but—if she says one word that ticks me off, I'm using her skull as a cereal bowl."
Ava winked. "Just make sure it's gluten free."
Lilly dragged her down the hallway before fists (or bombs) could fly.
That Night…
The lair was quiet. For once.
Ava was passed out on a couch in the surveillance room, one arm flung over her eyes like a diva in recovery.
Maya was probably calibrating a satellite laser to track Ava's sarcasm.
And Lilly?
She stood on the balcony just outside her borrowed room, breathing in the cool air. Trying to slow her heartbeat.
Sam stepped beside her, soft and steady. "You okay?"
Lilly didn't answer at first.
Then she turned—close, too close, eyes dark in the moonlight.
"I've been lying to you," she whispered.
"I know," Sam said gently. "But you're still here. That's enough for me."
"No, it's not," Lilly breathed.
And then she kissed her.
Like she was burning. Like the world might explode again and she needed this moment—just one—to be real.
Sam kissed her back, arms wrapping around her waist like a promise. A vow. A tether.
"I'm not running anymore," Lilly whispered against her lips.
Sam smiled. "Good. Because I'm not letting go."