Dorothea was still standing in the hallway, a tiny, spectral figure in the gloom.

Avery walked over and scooped her up. The child's skin was like ice; there was no telling how long she'd been rooted there.

"Sweetheart, why are you out of bed?"

Dorothea didn't answer. She buried her face in the crook of Avery's neck, her stuffed rabbit crushed between them.

"Mommy," she whispered. "He stopped."

Avery paused, her heart skipping. "Who stopped?"

"The one who was counting."

Avery carried her back, tucked her in, and pulled the duvet up to her chin. Dorothea blinked, clutching her rabbit, and after a long moment, her breathing finally leveled out into a fragile sleep.

Avery sat on the edge of the bed, watching her daughter's face. So small. So eerily quiet.

Before the first rays of dawn could break, a sharp rap sounded at the door. It was Drake.

"Dr.Clair. We have a situation."

She followed him into the hall. Drake's jaw was set, his expression grim.

"The surveillance in the east wing went dark for twenty minutes. The breach originated from your room. Your key card was cloned this morning."

Avery looked down at the card in her hand. She'd used it to enter Dominic's study earlier. It hadn't left her pocket since.

"Dorothea-"

"The child is fine. The hallway is locked down," Drake reassured her, though his voice dropped an octave. "But that's not the worst of it."

He handed her his phone. A message glowed on the screen:

Julian's primary physician was replaced this morning. The new doctor immediately altered his medication logs. The medical trust account has been frozen.

Avery's grip tightened until her knuckles ached. It was a trap-a blatant, jagged hook. Julian was the bait, and they were reeling her in.

If she went, she was walking into the lion's mouth. If she stayed, her brother would pay the price in blood.

She turned and marched toward Dominic's study.

She pushed the door open without knocking. He was standing by the window, already dressed in a sharp, dark suit that screamed power. He had just ended a call.

"Your security was hacked," Avery said, her voice tight.

"I know."

"The access came from my room-"

"I know." He turned, his movement stiff, and handed her a remote.

The wall monitors flickered to life. Two black SUVs sat idling outside the main gate. They didn't move. No one got out. They just loomed there like vultures.

"My East Pier shipment was intercepted. The south side logistics are blocked. Two of my offshore accounts were flagged and frozen," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "And your brother's doctor was swapped out an hour ago."

"But you just fixed that yesterday-"

"They're cowards hiding in the shadows," he cut her off. "It's easy to break things when you're invisible."

He handed her a separate file.

"Your brother is holding something. A backup from Wenger. They're coming for him because they need your signature for the authorization. They want you there, and they want that data."

Avery froze. "How could Julian have a backup from Wenger?"

"Wenger gave it to him," Dominic said flatly. "Wenger knew he was a dead man walking. He entrusted his most dangerous secret to someone who couldn't speak. Silence is the ultimate vault."

"What's in the backup?"

"I don't know. But they're moving fast enough to risk a direct hit on me to get it."

A small sound echoed from the hallway. Avery stepped out to find Dorothea standing by the study door, clutching her rabbit and staring through the crack.

"Sweetheart-"

Dorothea wasn't looking at her mother. She was staring into the room, toward Dominic. "Uncle Julian is not okay," she whispered.

Avery quickly ushered Dorothea back to her room, then returned to the study. Dominic hadn't moved.

"You took her back," he noted. It wasn't a question; it was an observation of her maternal instinct.

"I did."

He was silent for a beat, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the window frame. Avery noticed something off-his gaze was fixed about five inches to the left of where she was standing.

He raised a hand to rub his brow, a sharp, frustrated gesture.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he rasped. "I just don't like people playing games on my turf."

He turned to Drake. "Get the cars. Notify the hospital team. We proceed as planned. Assign two men to the third floor-they don't leave the child's side for a second."

Drake nodded and vanished.

Avery looked at Dominic, her doctor's eye narrowing. "Your condition-"

"Is nothing compared to being handled like a pawn," he snapped, straightening his cuffs. "The rats in the dark need to be smoked out before I can crush them."

His gaze slid past her face again. He didn't correct it. He simply shoved his hands into his pockets and walked out.

The hospital was unnervingly quiet. The white walls bled cold light under the fluorescent tubes, and the air tasted of sharp bleach.

Avery led the way, with Dominic trailing a step behind. She noticed that as they stepped into the elevator, he reached out to steady himself against the wall. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing, letting go the instant the doors opened.

Julian's room was on the third floor. The door swung open. The bed was stripped and empty.

"Julian-"

"In the next room."

The voice came from behind her. Avery spun around to see a man in his forties with gold-rimmed glasses. Dr. Greene.

She remembered him from an academic conference last month. Wenger had introduced them, claiming Greene was "fascinated" by her work on C-PTSD. Now, the memory felt like a premonition.

Dominic stood in the hall, a dark, silent sentinel. Avery looked back at him. He gave her a sharp, imperceptible nod. Only then did she step into Greene's office.

Dominic leaned against the wall outside and dialed Drake. "Lock the exits on the third floor. Switch to the backup feed. I want eyes on every soul in this building."

"Copy that."

He hung up and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the light at the end of the hall dragged a ghostly trail across his vision. He didn't blink. He just stood by the door, listening.

Inside the office, Greene pushed a folder across the desk.

"The new treatment plan. Sign here, and we can begin immediately."

Avery picked up the pen, her hand hovering over the line. She flipped to the second page. A line of fine print caught her eye: Data usage rights transfer.

"What is this?"

"Standard clause."

"There is nothing standard about transferring my research data for a patient's treatment."

"Hospital policy-"

"This isn't policy." Avery slammed the folder shut. "Who are you working for?"

Greene's professional smile curdled. He took off his glasses, polished them slowly, and put them back on.

"Dr. Clair, your brother's account is frozen. If you don't sign, he misses his dose today. Think very carefully about his life."

The door flew open.

Dominic walked in, his presence instantly shrinking the room. He sat across from Greene as if he owned the building.

Greene's face paled, then reset into a mask of feigned ignorance. "And you are...?"

"You know exactly who I am," Dominic said, his voice a low, lethal silk. "You've known since your first day in this dirty business."

Greene said nothing.

"That data transfer," Dominic said, sliding the folder back toward the doctor. "Tell me who the end-user is."

"I have no idea what you're talking about-"

"You have thirty seconds." Dominic leaned back, his eyes cold and predatory. "After that, I can't guarantee what my men will do to your friends in this building."

Greene's fingers twitched.

"Twenty seconds."

Greene looked at Avery, then at the monster sitting across from him. He took off his glasses and set them trembling on the desk.

"I only know a codename," Greene whispered. "Devil."

Avery felt a chill settle in her bones. Dominic didn't move, but his eyes darkened.

Suddenly, Greene's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and turned the color of ash.

CRASH!

The office window exploded inward. Glass shrapnel rained down. Avery dove for cover, a stray shard slicing a thin, stinging line across her cheek.

She looked up. A figure in a black hoodie and a tactical mask stood on the shattered windowsill, a suppressed weapon leveled at her.

"Don't move," the figure rasped.

"Wenger said we have to bring Avery back alive."

A gunshot cracked through the air.

Before Avery could react, a hand shoved her head down. She was yanked into someone's chest, hard.

The bullet hit the spot where she had been standing. Wall chips scattered everywhere.

She looked up. It was Dominic.

His chin pressed against the top of her head. His gun was already in his hand. He fired at the dark figure on the windowsill.

His arm locked around her waist, so tight it almost crushed her bones. His other hand moved fast to the gun at his hip. In the span of a turn, he had already fired.

The figure grunted. The bullet grazed his arm. He stumbled but didn't back off. He pulled a smoke grenade from his pocket and slammed it to the ground. White smoke billowed everywhere, stinging their eyes.

When the smoke cleared, only a few drops of blood remained on the windowsill. Dr. Greene was gone too.

Avery gasped for air. The sting on her cheek grew sharper.

Dominic looked down at her. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a glass cut."

Her eyes landed on the floor. A small metal pin lay among the glass shards.

She bent down and picked it up.

It was the logo from her parents' lab.

Something that should have disappeared seven years ago.

"What is that?" Dominic's voice came from beside her.

"The logo from my parents' lab." Her voice tightened. "It was all destroyed seven years ago."

Dominic took the pin, looked at it, and put it in his pocket. He pulled out his phone.

"Drake. Track down the figure who just escaped. And take a team to the hospital's underground storage. Get Julian out."

A pause on the other end.

"Boss. We already went to the storage. It's empty. Just a pen and a note. 'If you want Julian, meet at the abandoned pier.'"

"Got it. Get the car ready."

He hung up.

Avery's fingers clenched. That pen was the adult birthday gift she had given Julian. He never went anywhere without it.

She said she was going with him to the pier. Dominic looked at her and said coldly, "Don't slow me down."

The abandoned pier. The air smelled of rust and seawater. Shipping containers formed a maze.

Drake kept his voice low. "Boss. Target is in warehouse three. Six men. Armed."

Warehouse three. The door was open. Inside was dark.

Julian sat on a chair. His hands were tied. Tape covered his mouth. A man stood next to him, his back to them.

"Finally." The man turned around.

Dominic moved half a step in front of Avery.

"Let him go."

The man smiled. "Mr. Kessler. You came alone?"

"My men are outside."

"You brought them, but you won't let them in." He stepped forward. "Because you know that if you start shooting, this woman's brother dies."

Dominic didn't answer. His gun stayed fixed on the man.

"Leave her here." The man looked at Dominic. "You take your people and go. She stays. The kid lives."

"No."

"Then the kid dies here today." He pressed the gun against Julian's temple and looked at Avery. "Your choice."

Avery's fingers tightened.

Dominic lowered his voice, close to her ear. "Don't move."

The man waited a few seconds. He pressed the gun harder. "I'll count to three—"

"Let him go." Dominic's voice cut in. "You want her, not him. He's useless to you."

They stood frozen. Neither moved.

Dominic kept his gun raised.

"Your men are in the warehouse. Mine are outside. You can't get out. Right now, you only have one card to play."

He paused. "But if you play it, you're not getting out either."

The man stared at him. He didn't speak.

Outside the warehouse, footsteps closed in from all sides. Then a gunshot rang out from above. Short. Precise.

The man's wrist took the bullet. The gun flew from his hand and hit the ground.

He grunted. Julian broke free.

Julian stumbled. His knees hit the floor with a dull thud. He didn't cry out. He just pushed himself up and crawled toward Avery with everything he had.

His hands were still tied. He moved on his knees, one push at a time.

Dominic lunged forward, kicked the gun away, and pressed his own against the back of the man's neck.

"Mr. Kessler." The man clutched his wrist and looked up. "You're slower on the trigger than you were seven years ago."

Dominic's finger hesitated.

"Seven years ago on that boat, you weren't like this."

The man glanced at the smoke, then back at Dominic. "Wenger said you were broken. Looks like he was right."

Drake's men flooded in. They pinned the man down.

Dominic holstered his gun. He didn't say anything. His right hand hung at his side. The bandage was completely red.

"Take him away."

Avery knelt beside Julian. She tore the tape off his mouth and cut the ropes.

The moment Julian's hands were free, he started scratching the inside of his left arm. His nails dug into his skin. Avery grabbed his hands. He didn't react. His eyes stared at nothing.

"Let's go." Dominic had already called his men to take Julian. "We'll talk back at the villa."

Back at the villa, Avery helped Julian inside and sat him on the couch.

As soon as his hands were free, he started scratching his left arm again. Avery held him down. He didn't react. His eyes were empty.

Dominic crouched down. He turned Julian's left arm over and looked at it.

The scar wasn't long. Its edges were clean. Not from an accident.

Raised lines marked the surface, like someone had used a fine tool to carve into the skin.

"That's not from a needle," Dominic said, frowning.

"Someone carved it on purpose. Wenger's people like to mark their subjects. 030. That was the project number for your parents' lab subjects."

Avery stared at the scar. Project 030 again.

But she never expected to see it carved into Julian's skin.

Julian's hands slowly stopped. They dropped to his sides. His eyes were still vacant, but his lips moved. No sound came out.

Then Dorothea walked over. She quietly slipped her hand into Julian's.

Julian's fingers twitched. Then they slowly opened.

In his palm was something. Crumpled. Damp. But still whole. A folded piece of paper.

Dorothea looked down at it, then handed the paper to Avery. She didn't say anything.

Avery unfolded it.

It was letterhead from Dr. Greene's office. A line of unfinished writing, the ink messy, like it had been left in a hurry.

"D—the next target isn't her. It's—"

The rest was torn off.

She stared at the line. Her fingers tightened.

Dominic took the paper from her and looked at it. "Greene's handwriting. He ran before he could finish."

"Who's the next target?" Avery's voice wasn't a question.

Dominic didn't answer. He folded the paper and put it in his pocket. "I'll find out."

He turned and walked quickly toward the study. But Avery noticed him brace himself against the hallway wall. His knuckles went white. Then he let go just as fast.

Julian fell asleep. The doctor gave him a sedative.

Avery sat on the couch, clutching the pin in her hand. Her mind was a mess.

She thought about everything at the warehouse. The scar on Julian's arm. The fire that killed her parents.

A crackling sound filled her ears. Flames.

Smoke poured through the crack in the door. Her father stood in front of her. His mouth moved. She couldn't hear what he said.

She curled up in the corner of the couch, holding her head. Her whole body shook.

A sharp clink came from the coffee table.

Dominic had set a glass of water in front of her. He crouched down so his eyes were level with hers.

"Done crying?"

She didn't answer. Tears were still on her face.

"Wenger is still out there. The truth about your parents is still buried." He looked at her. "You're just going to curl up here and cry?"

"I've been carrying Wenger's drug, watching his backer, for three years without breaking. What about you?"

Avery looked at him. His eyes were cold. No warmth at all. But the hand at his side was clenched into a tight fist.

She picked up the glass and took a sip.

"I'm not wallowing." Her voice was still hoarse. "But you're right. I have people to protect."

Dominic stood up. He gave a small nod.

Avery stood too. She looked at the bandage on his hand.

"Tomorrow, we start real treatment. We're throwing out Wenger's methods. We do it my way. No toughing it out. No stopping the meds."

He looked at her. "Fine. Your way."

He paused. "We're even."

Avery looked at him and smiled. "Even."

Just then, the doctor walked down the stairs. He held a lab report in his hand.

"There are traces of a neuro inhibitor in the patient's blood. Not standard medication. The kind that interferes with short term memory and subtly controls behavior. This doesn't look like normal treatment. It looks like the continuation of a long term experiment."

Dominic looked at Avery. "Is this connected to what Wenger gave me?"

"The ingredients are similar, but this one is more targeted. Designed specifically for adolescent nervous systems."

After the doctor left, Avery opened the USB drive. She pulled up the numbered list.

"You're 047. Julian is 030. I'm Candidate A," she said.

"I've been going through my parents' records these past few days. This project started as legitimate research. Trauma intervention for C-PTSD. It could have saved so many people."

She paused.

"But someone turned it into something else. Wenger was just the executor. The person behind him wants the experiment to continue."

Dominic looked at the screen. He didn't say anything.

"They don't want a treatment plan," he said. "They want a tool to control people."

Just then, a noise came from upstairs.

Avery ran up and pushed the door open. Dorothea sat on the carpet, drawing. Nothing seemed wrong.

But the drawing showed a long, narrow hallway. At the end, a closed door. A star shaped mark sat on the door.

Next to it, a string of numbers. 030.

"Dorothea. What are you drawing?"

Dorothea looked up. Her eyes didn't blink.

"Mommy. When 030 doesn't behave, he gets locked up."

Dorothea lowered her head and went back to drawing. The crayon scratched across the paper.

"Dorothea." Avery crouched beside her daughter.

"Who told you that number?"

Dorothea didn't look up. "I saw it."

"Where did you see it?"

The little girl's hand stopped. She put down the crayon, picked up her rabbit, and buried her face in it. No answer.

Avery didn't push. She stood up and walked to the door. Dominic leaned against the wall in the hallway, holding the pin she had left downstairs. He was tracing the pattern with his thumb.

He hadn't stepped into the room. He just stood at the door and glanced at the drawing.

His fingers slowly lifted and pressed against the star shaped scar on his wrist. He paused.

"That mark," he said, voice low. "It's on that door."

Avery saw his fingers on the scar. She didn't ask how he knew.

"Your parents' lab. 17 North Industrial District." He placed the pin back in her hand. "That's what your daughter drew."

Avery's fingers closed around the pin.

Dorothea had never been there. She had never even heard that address.

"Someone taught her." Avery's voice trembled, but she forced herself steady. "Or someone made sure she saw it."

Dominic pressed his fingers to his brow. The bandage on his arm scraped against the wall. A faint smear of blood appeared. He didn't notice.

"Drake." He pulled out his phone. "Get me everything on 17 North Industrial District. All recent entry and exit records. And Wenger's movements. Everyone under him. Every detail."

"Also, what about the surveillance you were checking yesterday?"

Drake's voice came through. "One of the household staff we questioned last night is missing. The woman who cleans the living room. The one Dr.Clair mentioned, who touched her pocket."

Dominic's eyes went cold.

"Find her. Every exit from the villa. Perimeter cameras. City traffic footage. Dig her out."

He hung up.

Avery looked at the blood stain seeping through his bandage. She stepped forward and reached for his arm.

Her fingertips had just touched the edge when he caught her wrist.

"Don't."

She didn't pull back. "I'm a doctor. Let me handle it. If you tough it out and get an infection, it won't just affect you."

He looked at her. The pressure on her wrist slowly eased.

"The study," he said. "There's a medical kit there."

They walked into the study. Dominic unbuttoned his cuff and revealed his bandaged arm.

Avery unwrapped the gauze. The wound was worse than she thought. The edges were red and swollen. The inner layer of bandage had stuck to the dried blood.

She pinched a corner and peeled it off slowly. He didn't make a sound, but his fingers gripped the armrest of the chair. His arm trembled.

She put on fresh gauze. Her fingertips pressed gently at the edge of the wound. She waited for him to breathe through it.

"Hurt?"

He didn't answer. His throat moved.

She didn't ask again. The iodine swab brushed over the wound. His arm tensed, then relaxed just as fast. She looked up at him. His eyes were lowered, watching her hands. There were dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Dominic."

"Mm."

"You were watching surveillance all night?"

He didn't answer.

She finished re wrapping the wound. His fingers were still clenched around the armrest.

"Your hand."

He looked down and slowly let go. She saw four nail marks pressed into his palm.

"Take your medication on time. At least you'll sleep." She closed the medical kit. "I need you to do something for me."

He looked up.

"The missing maid. She's connected to the mole. There might be others left." She paused. "You're better at reading people than Drake's men. You want me to interrogate them?"

Dominic pulled a folder from the drawer and pushed it across the desk.

"They're afraid of me. They won't say anything in front of me. You're different."

He pushed the folder toward her. His fingertips lingered on the edge for a moment. He didn't say please. He didn't say I'm asking.

"This is everyone's file. Including my own people."

She looked at his fingers for a second, then picked up the folder.

"You suspect Drake's men?"

"I suspect everyone." His voice was flat. "I never needed to check before. Now Dorothea and Julian are here."

"Alright. I'll do it."

The interrogation room was in the basement.

Drake pushed open the heavy steel door. A woman sat inside. Mid forties. Head down.

Avery stood at the door and scanned the room. Steel door. Soundproof walls. Even the door handle was twice as thick as normal. She had seen rooms like this in crime shows. Now she was standing in one.

"Wait outside," she said to Drake.

He nodded and closed the door.

"What's your name?" Avery sat down.

"Marie."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Two years."

"Do you like it here?"

The woman blinked. She didn't answer.

Avery placed the folder on the table. Inside was Marie's file and a few photos of her family.

"Your daughter is starting college this year?"

The woman nodded.

"Tuition isn't cheap."

The woman didn't answer. Her fingers clutched her knees. Her body leaned forward, tense.

"Someone asked you for a favor. They paid you."

The woman's head shot up. "I didn't-"

"You didn't hurt anyone." Avery cut her off. "You just lent someone your key card. You didn't know what she was going to do."

The woman stared at her. Her lips were shaking.

"Tell me when she came to you."

"Last month... She said her brother was sick. She needed money. Just a five minute borrow of the card. I didn't know-"

"What's her name?"

"Leah. The one who's missing."

Avery stood up.

"I-am I going to be fired?" The woman's voice shook.

"No." Avery walked to the door and opened it. "Next."

The second one was a young man. Early twenties. His leg bounced nervously.

"Do you know Leah?"

He nodded. "She's my cousin."

"What did she tell you?"

He hesitated. "She said... someone was looking for something. In the villa. If she found it, she'd get a lot of money."

"What something?"

"I don't know. She said it was a box. Metal. Small."

Avery's fingers paused. Her face didn't change. "What else?"

"She said there was someone behind it. Not Dr. Wenger. Someone higher up." He looked at her. "She said that person knows you. Has known you for a long time."

Avery stood there for a few seconds. "Did she say a name?"

"She was too scared. Said if the information leaked, she'd be killed."

The rest of the questions got nothing useful.

Avery walked out of the interrogation room. Drake followed.

"What about the third one?"

"The third is a driver. Been with the boss for five years." Drake lowered his voice.

"He didn't say anything. But surveillance caught him near the garage the night Leah went missing."

"Who was he waiting for?"

"Don't know. But the garage cameras were shut off for fifteen minutes."

She stopped and looked at Drake, thinking.

"Who can turn off the cameras?"

Drake didn't answer, but something in his eyes said enough.

"Your men."

He gave a heavy nod.

She stood there, gripping the folder. Her frown deepened. Her thoughts were a mess.

Dominic suspected Drake's men. Drake suspected his own men.

No one could be trusted. Just like he said.

Avery was about to head upstairs when Drake's phone rang first.

He answered, listened for a few seconds, then handed the tablet to Dominic.

Dominic glanced at it and turned the screen to Avery.

Live surveillance footage of 17 North Industrial District. On the outer wall of the abandoned lab building, someone had carved a fresh line of text. The ink was still wet.

"Candidate A. I'm waiting for you inside."

Avery stared at the words. She didn't move.

Dominic stood beside her, looking at the same screen.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Tonight, finish going through what Wenger left. The envelope from your brother. You haven't opened it yet."

He turned and walked toward the study. Two steps in, he stopped. He didn't look back.

"Come find me when you're done."

Avery went back to her room. Dorothea was already asleep.

She pulled the envelope from the inside pocket of her jacket and tore it open.

Inside was a photograph.

Taken years ago, at the entrance of her parents' lab.

Avery stood on the steps, holding a book, her eyes curved into crescents from smiling.

Beside her parents stood a figure. The face was blacked out.

She stared at the blacked out face, trying to make out the silhouette. Then her phone buzzed.

A message from Drake. Sent to Dominic, and copied to her.

"Leah's body has been found. Outside the west wall of the villa, hidden in the grass. A ligature mark on her neck. A note clutched in her palm."

The photo of the note was attached. One line of text.

"Next. Your daughter."

Avery stared at the words. Her feet moved before she realized it.

She pushed open Dorothea's door and crouched by the bed. The little girl was asleep. Her breathing was light.

Avery touched her daughter's face. Her nose stung.

Footsteps came from behind her. Dominic stood in the doorway, phone in hand, screen still lit.

"You saw it," he said.

"Yes."

"You sleep here tonight. I'll stay outside."

She didn't say yes. She didn't say no. She picked up Dorothea, blanket and all. He pushed the door open. She walked in and laid the child down.

Dorothea turned over, face in the pillow. She didn't wake.

Avery stood by the bed, looking at her daughter.

"You're not sleeping?" Dominic's voice came from the doorway.

"I can't."

He was quiet for a moment. "Neither can I."

He walked in, pulled a chair over, and sat down facing the door. His back against the wall. She pulled another chair and sat next to him.

They sat side by side in silence. The lights were off. Moonlight came through the window.

After a long time, she spoke.

"What are you afraid of?"

"That you'll die." His voice was very soft.

She turned her head to look at him. He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were on the door.

"You?" he asked.

"That she'll die."

He was quiet for a moment. "Then let's not die."

She didn't answer. She put her hand on the armrest. Her fingertips touched his elbow. He didn't pull away. She didn't move her hand.

They sat like that, in the dark. Neither of them spoke again.