The car sped through the city streets, weaving between traffic, slipping past intersections as if urgency alone could keep them hidden. The weight of the moment settled thick in the air, pressing against Celeste's chest.
She leaned her forehead against the window, watching New York blur past her. It looked the same as it always had—bright, restless, alive—but now, it felt different. Like she was seeing it from the outside. A world she had once been a part of, now slipping through her fingers.
"You're quiet," Amelia murmured beside her.
Celeste turned her head slightly but didn't look away from the window. "I'm thinking."
Amelia's hand found hers, fingers brushing gently over the skin of her palm. "About what?"
Celeste hesitated. How was she supposed to put it into words? That she felt like a ghost in her own life? That she wasn't sure if she was real or just an echo of something someone else had made?
"That they're not going to stop," she finally said.
Amelia squeezed her hand. "Then neither will we."
The conviction in her voice was steady, unwavering. It made something tighten in Celeste's throat. She turned, finally meeting Amelia's gaze. There was no hesitation there. No doubt. Amelia wasn't just saying it to comfort her—she meant it.
Before Celeste could say anything, Nathaniel spoke from the front seat.
"We're being followed."
Amelia stiffened instantly. Celeste's breath caught.
"What?" Amelia snapped, twisting in her seat to glance out the back window.
Nathaniel didn't look at them. His eyes were locked on the side mirror. "Black sedan. Three cars back. They've been trailing us since we crossed Midtown."
Celeste's pulse spiked. "Are you sure?"
Nathaniel's fingers tapped against his knee—a habit, Celeste realized, of someone used to analyzing, calculating, always thinking. "I'm sure."
The driver, who had been silent up until now, exhaled through his nose. "Want me to lose them?"
"Yes," Nathaniel said without hesitation.
The driver grunted and pressed harder on the gas. The car surged forward, slipping through a yellow light just before it turned red. Celeste's stomach flipped as the acceleration pushed her back into her seat. "Hang on," the driver muttered. They turned sharply down a side street, then another, cutting through the city in a seemingly random pattern. Celeste clutched Amelia's hand without thinking, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
"Did we lose them?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nathaniel checked the mirror. His jaw tightened. "No." Celeste swallowed hard.
Whoever was following them—they weren't amateurs. "We need to get off the main streets," Nathaniel said. "If they've made us, they'll have backup waiting ahead."
"There's an alley up here," the driver said. "Might be able to shake them if we cut through."
"Do it."
The moment they veered into the alley, Celeste felt the shift. The world outside changed—quieter, darker. The glow of neon signs disappeared, replaced by towering buildings and rusted fire escapes. Trash bins lined the walls, the smell of damp concrete thick in the air.
The car jolted as they hit a pothole.
Then—
Headlights flooded the alley from behind.
"Shit," Amelia breathed. The black sedan wasn't just following them anymore. It was gaining. "Hold on," the driver growled.
The car swerved sharply to the left, skidding onto another street. Celeste's breath caught as the tires screeched against the pavement. The sedan followed without hesitation.
Nathaniel muttered a curse under his breath. He reached into his coat, pulling out something Celeste didn't recognize at first—a small, sleek handgun.
Amelia's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
Nathaniel didn't even look at her. "I'm not going to shoot anyone. But if they try to run us off the road, I'd rather have options." Celeste's heart pounded. Another sharp turn. A narrow street. The sedan was still there. "They're not letting up," the driver growled. "We need to get out of the car," Nathaniel said. Amelia whipped toward him. "Are you insane? We'll be sitting ducks on foot."
Nathaniel's voice was steady. "If we stay in this car, they'll box us in." He wasn't wrong. The chase wasn't going to last forever—at some point, the streets would trap them. And then what? A dead end? A forced confrontation? Celeste shuddered.
"We jump on my mark," Nathaniel said. Celeste felt Amelia squeeze her hand tighter. "You okay?" No. Not even close. But she nodded. Nathaniel reached for the door handle. "Now!"
The driver slammed the brakes. The moment the car skidded to a stop, Nathaniel was out. Amelia yanked Celeste with her, the night air slamming into them as they bolted.
Footsteps pounded behind them. Celeste didn't look back.
Nathaniel led the way, weaving through the streets like he knew them, like he had mapped out every escape route years ago. Amelia stayed close to Celeste, her breath sharp and ragged.
Then—Nathaniel grabbed her arm and yanked her into a side alley.
Celeste barely had time to register the movement before he shoved them both behind a dumpster "Stay quiet," he murmured.
Celeste pressed herself against the cold metal, trying to catch her breath. Amelia was right beside her, tense, ready. Nathaniel crouched near the edge of the alley, peering around the corner.
Footsteps. Heavy. Slow. Searching. Celeste's stomach clenched. They were close.
A voice, low and cold, drifted through the alley.
"She has to be here somewhere."
Celeste didn't recognize it.
But Nathaniel did. She saw the shift in his expression—the flicker of recognition, of something deeper. Amelia noticed it too. "Who are they?" she whispered.
Nathaniel exhaled through his nose. "People I thought I'd stopped a long time ago." Celeste's chest tightened.
She wanted to ask what that meant—who they were, why they wanted her—but now wasn't the time. The footsteps grew fainter.
Then—silence.
Nathaniel waited a full minute before standing. He glanced around the alley, making sure it was clear. Then he turned to them. "We have to keep moving."
Celeste didn't argue. She didn't know where they were going.
She only knew they couldn't stop.