Sara Brodie hung limp against the restraints, her head bobbing to the left as the helicopter sliced through the clouds. The world outside was nothing but white and gray, a purgatory of mist and distance. The drug kept her quiet for now, but silence was a temporary mercy. Once it wore off, everything buried inside her would wake, too— the voices, the memories, the ghosts of what she’d done. Marcus’s eyes locked on the horizon, his senses honed, barely acknowledging the tense figures seated behind him. The chopper cut through the dense clouds with relentless precision, skimming dangerously close to the turbulent waves below and the high cliffs where the…