Smoke curled in lazy spirals, coiling around the ruins of what used to be a mission what used to be control. Now it was just dust and silence.
And three girls trying to remember how to breathe.
Lilly sat slumped against a slab of broken concrete, blood drying down the side of her neck, eyes unfocused her knuckles were bruised raw. Her body ached in ways no bandage could reach.
But her voice when she finally spoke was steel. "We should've killed her."
Ava, lying on her back like she was stargazing through smoke, gave a dry, hollow laugh. "We tried."
Sam didn't speak.
She was crouched in front of Lilly, hands steady even though her heart wasn't. She dabbed a cloth—red turning darker red—with quiet care, the kind that screamed louder than Ava's sarcasm ever could.
"You almost didn't make it," Sam said, voice low. "You scared the shit out of me."
Lilly looked up, something raw flickering in her gaze. "I'm still here."
"But for how long?" Ava cut in, sitting up with a grimace. "None of us are walking away clean from this. That bitch wasn't just playing dress-up. She had moves, intel, history." She looked at Lilly, sharp. "You sure you didn't leave anything else behind in Havana?"
Lilly didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Because the silence said everything.
Sam sat back on her heels, exhausted. Her hands were shaking now that the adrenaline had bled out. "She said she's not done. That wasn't her endgame."
"No," Lilly murmured. "It wasn't."
"She wants revenge," Ava muttered, flexing her sore wrist. "And not the theatrical kind. The real shit. Family-for-family. Blood-for-blood."
Lilly closed her eyes. the boy, the rose, the shot. Ava's kiss. The scent of gunpowder and guilt.
And the look on the Woman in White's face when she said—
"He was my brother."
A tremor rocked through her.
"She'll come back," Lilly whispered. "And next time, she won't hesitate."
Sam stood, suddenly needing space, needing oxygen, even though there was none. "We need a plan. We need somewhere to go."
Ava groaned. "We also need to sleep. I haven't closed my eyes in thirty-six hours and I think my blood's made of espresso and spite."
But no one laughed.
Because they all knew it. This wasn't over.
Lilly rose slowly, dragging herself upright like her bones were stitched with fire. "She's going to tear the world apart to finish what she started."
Sam stepped close, hand catching Lilly's arm—anchoring. "Then we finish it first."
And Ava she didn't say anything. She just looked between them, something stormy in her eyes. Something wild.
"You two keep playing hero," she said finally, voice like a blade. "But don't forget—I'm still the monster you made."
She turned and walked off into the smoke.
Lilly watched her go. Didn't stop her. Couldn't.
Because deep down, part of her still loved Ava.
And deeper still—
Part of her was Ava