I learned early on that masks aren’t just made of porcelain and paint—they’re made of words, of glances, of carefully placed silences. Some people wear them to survive, to blend in. Others wear them to deceive. Me? I wore mine to protect what was left of me. Growing up in a world where trust was a liability, I became an expert at slipping between the cracks. My father was a ghost, a legend spoken of in hushed tones, his name both a warning and a curse. My mother? She taught me that love was a weakness, a distraction from the only thing that truly mattered—survival. I was raised in the shadows, trained to see the lies hidden in the light. By the time I joined the agency, I had perfected the art of being someone else. The girl I once was? She no longer existed. In her place stood Lane Carter—a woman who knew how to play the game, who never let her guard down, who didn’t make the mistake of caring. And then I met him. Kaleel wasn’t like the others. He saw past my masks, past the carefully constructed walls. He saw me. And for a moment—one reckless, dangerous moment—I let him. That mistake nearly cost me everything. Now, I’m back in the game, and this time, I won’t let history repeat itself. But as much as I tell myself that I can outplay him, that I can stay one step ahead, I know the truth. The most dangerous masks aren’t the ones we wear for others. They’re the ones we wear for ourselves.
