In the end, gratitude and duty paled in comparison to the bond she shared with Carter. Scarlett made up her mind. Grabbing the collar of one of her men, she whispered harshly, “The perimeter is secure—there’s no need to waste more time here. Throw in a bomb and report that the bandits detonated it themselves. Quickly! Don’t linger.”
She turned, hoisting Carter onto her shoulder with visible effort, and began to retreat. The moment the bomb was thrown, Scarlett hesitated, casting one final glance back toward the warehouse. The explosion illuminated the scene in stark clarity. For a brief moment, the figure tied up in the warehouse was unmistakable.
Our eyes met. I smiled—desperate, bitter, and resigned. Scarlett froze, her eyes wide, the realization crashing over her.
Then the blast wave hit. The force was so immense that she stumbled, momentarily losing consciousness.
When I woke up, the sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air. My arm throbbed, and my head pounded, but I was alive. Bianca, the First Captain, stood nearby, her posture stiff, her expression unreadable. “You’re awake,” she said curtly, exhaling a breath she must have been holding.