The road outside the estate wound through the hills like a dark ribbon, vanishing beneath the weight of rain. Inside the car, Ruhi could feel every turn — the sway of the vehicle, the thud of tires against water, the faint hum of men breathing around her. She counted seconds. One, two, three—then the sound of gravel again. They were slowing down.

The gag had gone damp against her mouth. Her wrists ached where rope bit into them. She thought of Gabriele’s last words — Don’t open the doors for anyone — and almost laughed, a sound that died before it could rise. If only he could see her now: the doors opened for her by force.