Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

You move through the facility checking preparations. The intake area is clean, restraints tested and ready. Isabella remains unconscious in the processing room, her breathing steady and deep. You glance at your watch—three forty-five AM. Headlights sweep across the barred windows at precisely four o'clock. A unmarked van backs up to the loading dock. Two men in dark clothing emerge, moving with practiced efficiency. They wheel out a gurney bearing a slim figure wrapped in a gray blanket. "Domi