Page 54 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

“No.”

“Please tell me I didn’t make eye contact with anyone on the way down,” she mutters.

Her eyes close again.

Maksim stands above us, unreadable and severe. He doesn’t ask useless questions. He looks at Abramov.

“Seal the room.”

Abramov nods.

Maksim’s gaze moves to Leonid. “Secure the archive.”

Leonid gathers the laptop and files.

Only then does Maksim look at Cara. “Doctor first. Everything else after.”

Dr. Yelena enters with a medical bag in hand. “Move back unless you want me treating you next.”

I move only enough to let her work.

Yelena kneels, checks Cara’s pulse, then her pupils. “When did she last eat?”

“Barely this morning,” Mrs. Wentworth answers.

Yelena looks at me. “And she was brought down to work?”

Maksim speaks from near the table. “Is she fit to move?”

“Not yet,” Yelena says. “She stays flat for a few minutes. Water first, then broth or tea with sugar. If she keeps it down, she can sit.”

Cara turns her head a fraction. “Am I inconveniencing everyone?”

“Only inconveniencing me,” Yelena says. “Try not to enjoy it.”

A smile nearly slips out before I remember where I am.

Maksim sees it.

Yelena checks Cara’s blood pressure, pulse, and eyes again, then closes her bag. “Exhaustion, stress, and not enough food. No head injury.” She looks at me. “You did the right thing.” Then she adds, “keep her supervised, keep her fed, and don’t drag her through another interrogation before lunch.”

“When she can sit,” Maksim says, “move her to Elena's Women's Wing.”

Abramov nods. “I’ll post men outside.”

“Review the access logs for everyone in the command wing since dawn,” Maksim adds. “No one leaves until your office clears them.”

Cara’s eyes open again, slower this time. She looks toward him, then me, and she closes her eyes. Her fingers shift against my sleeve. She’s still cold, and pale, fighting to look untouchable from the floor of a house that could swallow her whole. I close my hand over hers before I decide not to.

Lidiya and Mrs. Wentworth take over once Yelena allows Cara to sit.

Cara tries to wave them off, then sways hard enough that my hand moves before hers does. She notices and smiles thinly.

“I’m walking,” she says.

“You’re arguing from the floor,” Yelena answers. “Let the girl help.”

Lidiya slides one arm around Cara’s waist, and I move to Cara’s other side, close enough to catch her if she slips.