All plans burn

Isabel’s POV

The door swings open, and I’m shoved inside.

I stumble, hitting something—maybe a foot—then crash onto the cold floor, knees slamming into concrete. My breath knocks out of me in a painful grunt. I try to brace myself, but my hands are tied tightly behind my back, wrists already aching from the strain. The blindfold digs into my skin, and every breath I take comes through fabric clamped over my mouth.

Muffled sounds escape me as I shake, trying to make sense of the space. There’s nothing. No light. No direction. Only fear clawing its way through my chest.

Then I hear it.

A voice, shaky and small.

“Mom?”

My body stills. My blood runs cold.

That voice.

Cynthia.

My chest tightens. My thoughts spiral.

Cynthia? What the hell is she doing here? How?

What happened?

What’s going on?!

A sharp, echoing smack cuts through the room. Then a gasp. Followed by—

“Mom!”