"My room, now." Micah says sharply, tugging me towards the house. I don't protest or struggle to be released from his hold. My mind has grown numbingly cold as the harsh reality of the mission sinks in.
Veronica sent us here to die.
Over the past few years, the FBI has grown into what I call my own messed up version of home. Despite them kidnapping and drugging me, I've grown accustomed to the rules and it's people. Some of my closest friends were made in the FBI, friends that I hoped to one day call family. I think of Geraldine, the canteen worker who always greets me with a wave and a smile. I never asked for extra roast potatoes but she always gave them to me.
"We can't go back." I breathe out, my throat closing in as the thought dawns on me. How can we go back? Veronica wants us dead. I'll never see the inside of the FBI headquarters again. I'll never speak to the same people, eat the same food. I don't realize it but as Micah drags me up the stairs, I begin to hyperventilate.