Chapter 12

The glass doors of the Thorne-Vance executive floor slid silently open, admitting a ghost into the beating heart of the tech empire.

Julian Thorne walked out of the private elevator. He hadn't slept in three days. His bespoke suit was severely wrinkled, smelling of stale airplane air a

Chapter 13

The coastal hospice facility smelled faintly of lavender and aggressively of bleach. It was a place designed for soft footsteps and hushed voices, a tranquil purgatory nestled against the gray shoreline. For the past seventy-two hours, Julian Thorne had single-handedly ruined that tranqu

Chapter 14

The sun began its slow descent over the Atlantic, casting long, bruised shadows of violet and orange across the floor of Room 4B. The light crawled up the edge of Clara’s blanket, illuminating the sharp angles of her resting form. The only sounds in the room were the rhythmic, mechanical