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... ir patrols were slower, less focused.
’There’s a window.’
If she could time it right—wait for the rotating guards to turn the corner, slip past the distracted ones in the courtyard, stay low and fast—she might make it to the side of the building. From there, she could find a window, a crack, somewhere to see or hear what was happening inside.
Kaya took a slow breath, her hand resting on the knife at her side.
’Wait for the rotation. Then move.’
Kaya had be ...
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