Chapter 2: The Red Recording Light

The man in the black suit didn't wait for me to recover my balance. His polished shoes squeaked slightly on the marble as he shifted his weight, his eyes darting between my face and the small security camera mounted near the top of the white bookshelf. I stayed on one knee, my fingers braced against the glossy floor to keep from collapsing back down. The injection had done its job—my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, pumping artificial adrenaline through my bloodstream with enough force to make my temples throb.

The young girl in the pink patterned dress stayed close to my side, her small fingers clutching the strap of her white bunny backpack as if it were a lifeline. She didn't look at the man in the suit; her dark eyes remained fixed on me, checking for any sign that I might slip back into unconsciousness.

"I told you she shouldn't have brought that bag inside," the man in the suit said, his voice clipped and devoid of any warmth. He reached out, his hand hovering near the edge of the bookshelf, though he didn't touch the camera yet. "You were warned what happens when protocols are bypassed. And now look at the feed."

I forced myself to stand, my knees shaking before locking into a stable position. "The feed goes where?" I rasped, the words scraping against my recovering vocal cords.

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"Directly to the terminal downtown," the man replied, his jaw tightening as he offered a thin, humorless smile. "Which means someone is already watching this room. They saw the girl administer the dose. They saw you wake up. And they are going to want an explanation that neither of us is equipped to give right now."

I looked past him toward the tall arched windows that framed the expansive, manicured lawn outside the villa. The natural daylight outside seemed indifferent to the quiet crisis unfolding inside the cream-and-white living room. I needed to move, to get the girl away from whatever network this man represented, but my legs still felt like wet cement. The man in the suit took a deliberate step toward me, his hand slipping inside his jacket toward the interior pocket.