Margaret didn’t care whether they believed her.
She had stood inside a world hidden in a piece of jade.
She had watched a knife wound close before her eyes.
Whatever doubts anyone else in this room had, she had none left.
She believed every word her granddaughter had said.
She began giving orders at once.
“Robert, sell the company.
As fast as you can, and I don’t care if we take a loss.
Quietly, if possible.”
Robert opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded.
“Declan, I want you to arrange an auction.
I’ll send you photos tonight.
Antiques, paintings, jewelry, and the old family pieces in the vault.
Find a few of those so-called experts and have them come appraise everything.
Keep it discreet.”
“Understood.”
“Eli, find out how we can buy weapons.
Legally where possible, and quietly where not.
As many as you can get.”
Eli, who rarely showed any expression at all, blinked once.
“Yes, madam.”
“Silas, your only job is Neve.
I don’t trust the Ashfords, so bring every one of our people back here to the estate.
No one is to be left out on their own.”
Silas inclined his head.
He asked no questions, but his eyes had gone sharp and watchful.
“Walter, when you get back, take Ezra and a few others and start buying household necessities.
Food that keeps, water, medicine, toiletries, batteries, and anything we’d miss if the stores were gone.
And call Lana, Shane, and Callum home.
They don’t need to go to class anymore.”
Margaret looked around the room and let her voice harden.
“Listen carefully, all of you.
When it begins, a gray-black rain will fall.
Anyone caught in it will turn into one of those things, though a small number will awaken abilities instead.
Staying indoors won’t be enough to protect you.
The virus will be in the air, too.
Some who never touch the rain will still turn, and some will still awaken.”
She paused.
“And not one word of this leaves this room.
Not to your friends, not to the other branches of the Sinclair family, not to anyone.
Is that understood?”
“Yes, madam!”
The answer came from every throat at once.
Whether they believed her didn’t matter.
The madam had given an order, and in this house, that was enough.
They would carry it out.
“Go.”
She didn’t give them time to sit with it or to ask questions.
There was simply too much to do and not nearly enough time.
The study emptied quickly, and footsteps scattered through the house.
When the last of them had gone, Margaret picked up her phone again and dialed one more number.
“Sam.”
Sam was one of her orphans, quiet and forgettable-looking, which made him the best tail she had.
“I want you to watch Sylvie Ashford.
Where she goes, who she meets, and who she calls if you can manage it.
Report to me directly.
No one else.”
Across the city, Sylvie Ashford was calling Neve for the eleventh time.
The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.
She hung up and stared at the screen.
She had woken that morning in her own apartment, in her own bed, with sunlight coming through the curtains and the hum of traffic outside.
For a long time she had simply sat there, frozen, her heart racing, waiting for the room to dissolve.
It hadn’t.
She had felt herself hit the ground.
She remembered the hands grabbing her, the teeth, Neve’s arms locked around her like iron.
She had died.
And now she was here.
Her phone showed a date more than three months before the rain.
She had been reborn.
Her very first thought had been the jade pendant.
Her second had been to call Neve.
But Neve’s phone was off.
Sylvie frowned.
In her past life, on this exact day, the two of them had been at school together.
She remembered it clearly.
They had gone to a lecture in the morning and gotten bubble tea afterward, and Neve had talked nonstop about some sale at the mall.
Neve’s phone was never off.
She was glued to it.
Sylvie had grabbed her bag and driven straight to campus.
Neve wasn’t in the lecture hall.
She wasn’t at the café or in the library.
No one in their class had seen her.
Finally, Sylvie had gone to the department office and asked their academic advisor.
The woman looked up from her computer with a sympathetic smile.
“Neve Sinclair?
Oh, her family called this morning.
She’s withdrawing for the semester.
Personal reasons, I believe.”
Now Sylvie sat in her car in the campus parking lot, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles had gone white.
Withdrawn.
On this exact day.
In her past life, Neve had never withdrawn from school.
She had gone to class right up until the rain.
Nothing about today should have been different.
The only thing that had changed was Sylvie herself.
Unless it wasn’t the only thing.
A cold certainty settled into her stomach.
Neve had been reborn too.
There was no other explanation.
The Neve she knew was a spoiled, soft, trusting little idiot who would never do anything this drastic, this fast, without a reason.
Someone had to have told her what was coming.
Or she had seen it herself.
Sylvie shut her eyes and swore under her breath.
If Neve remembered everything, then she remembered the roof.
She remembered Silas and Declan bleeding out on the concrete.
She remembered exactly who had killed them and exactly why.
How was Sylvie supposed to get the pendant now?
She couldn’t do it alone.
Not against the Sinclairs, with all their guards and money.
Not if Neve was on her guard.
She needed help.
There was only one person she could go to.
Her father.
If he believed her, she still had a chance.
With the Ashfords behind her, they could strike first, before the rain, before Neve had time to prepare.
But if he didn’t believe her…
Sylvie’s jaw tightened.
In her past life, she had tried to kill Neve.
She had nearly succeeded.
There was no way Neve would let her live this time.
She had no choice.
She picked up her phone and called her father.
It rang once, twice, and five times.
She had started to think he wouldn’t answer at all when a man’s voice finally came on the line.
“Syl.
What is it?”
“Dad, I need to talk to you about something.
Do you have time right now?”
She kept her voice careful and small.
It was the voice she’d used with him since she was a child.
He might refuse to see her.
He had refused before, many times.
She was only his illegitimate daughter, after all.
“I’m at the office.
If it’s something, just tell me over the phone.”
Richard Ashford sounded distracted.
She could hear papers moving on his end.
“Dad, it’s important.
It’s really important.” She gripped the phone tighter.
“It’s about the lives of everyone in our family.
And about our future.
Our power, our influence, everything.”
Silence.
“Please, you have to believe me.
I have no reason to lie to you.
You raised me.
I’m your daughter.
I would never lie to you.
I wouldn’t dare.”
She could hear the reluctance in his breathing.
He didn’t want to see her.
But this was not something she could explain over the phone.
He would hang up on her before she got through the first sentence.
“…Is it really that important?”
“Yes.”
Another long pause.
“Fine.
Come to the office.”
The line went dead.
Sylvie let out a long breath, started the car, and pulled out of the lot.