CHAPTER 82

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, its dim lights flickering ominously as Philip followed Andrew Lane. His mind was a blur of emotions—fear, anger, and determination all swirling together in a storm he struggled to control. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jessica, about the terror in her eyes as she was dragged away. He had to find a way to save her, but first, he needed to understand what Lane wanted.

As they reached the end of the hallway, Lane paused in front of a heavy steel door. With a swipe of his keycard, the door clicked open, and he stepped inside, motioning for Philip to follow. The room beyond was stark and utilitarian, with a large desk dominating the center and walls lined with filing cabinets and monitors. It was clearly a control room, a place where Lane orchestrated his schemes.

“Take a seat,” Lane said, his tone icy as he gestured to a chair in front of the desk. Philip hesitated for a moment, then complied, knowing that resistance would only worsen his situat