Veil of Deception

The Aftermath

The cool night air wrapped around Isabella like a second skin, biting against the sweat still clinging to her from the escape. She and Dominic moved quickly through the dense woods surrounding Redmond, their breaths ragged but steady. Every step was an effort to distance themselves from the horrors they had just left behind.

Isabella's mind raced, unable to focus on one thought for too long. Clara was still in there—trapped, experimented on, maybe worse. The image of her strapped to one of those chairs, her body limp and her eyes vacant, haunted Isabella. They had left her. They had failed her.

But there was no going back, not now.

The forest floor was uneven, and Isabella stumbled over a loose rock, barely catching herself before hitting the ground. Dominic grabbed her arm, steadying her.

"Careful," he muttered.

"Yeah," she replied absently, her gaze still forward. "I'm fine."

They continued in silence, their footsteps muffled by the damp earth. Dominic's eyes darted around, scanning for any sign of pursuit, but so far, there had been none. The facility behind them was eerily quiet, as if they had slipped away unnoticed. But Isabella knew better. It wouldn't be long before Redmond's forces were on their tail.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice hoarse from exhaustion and strain.

"There's an old cabin about two miles north," Dominic said without looking back. "It should be abandoned, and it's far enough from here that we can rest, regroup."

Isabella nodded. She didn't care where they went, as long as it was far from Redmond. Her legs felt heavy, her muscles sore from the fight and flight. All she wanted was to sit down, close her eyes, and make the nightmares disappear.

But the thoughts of Clara wouldn't let her rest. As they trekked deeper into the woods, Isabella replayed everything over and over in her head. Had they missed something? Could they have searched harder, fought longer, done something—anything—differently?

"I shouldn't have left her," she whispered under her breath, the guilt crashing over her like a wave.

Dominic glanced at her. "You didn't have a choice. We didn't have a choice."

"Maybe you didn't. But I did."

He stopped suddenly, turning to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"I knew something was wrong," she said, her voice rising. "I felt it. I should've pushed harder. I should've—"

"Isabella, stop." Dominic's tone was firm, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. "You can't think like that."

"Like what? Like someone who actually cares about the people she's trying to save?"

"Like someone who blames themselves for everything that goes wrong," Dominic snapped, his voice sharp. "You did everything you could. We both did. Clara's not gone, okay? We'll find her."

Isabella swallowed hard, her throat tight. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that they could go back, storm Redmond again, and free Clara. But deep down, a part of her wondered if Clara was already lost—if Redmond had broken her the way it had nearly broken Isabella.

They continued in silence for another hour, the darkness of the forest closing in around them. Eventually, they came across the cabin Dominic had mentioned. It was small and dilapidated, hidden beneath thick overgrowth, but it was secluded, and for now, that was all that mattered.

Dominic pushed the door open, and they stepped inside. The air was stale, and the floor creaked beneath their feet. A couple of moth-eaten chairs sat in one corner, and a dust-covered table was pushed against the far wall. It wasn't much, but it was safe.