He gestured to a guard, who stepped forward and slid a small thumb drive into the computer monitor on the desk.
The screen lit up.
Our house appeared — the lounge.
Mother on the couch with Beth, watching TV.
Then three men, dressed head to toe in black, burst into the room and opened fire.
I watched the guards fall.
One.
Then another.
Then the last.
Mother screamed as she was thrown to the floor. One of the men kicked her — vicious, careless.
Beth was hurled into a wall and knocked out cold.
Then the men ransacked the place quickly and were gone within seconds, like they had known exactly where to look.
My stomach twisted.
“Father—”
“Don’t interrupt.” His voice cracked like a whip. “More were stolen from Phillip just the other day. Do you want to knowwhat was inside those files, Persephone? Data. Samples. Tests. From you.”
“From me?” The words barely made it out.
“How do you think those ferals are being created?” Gideon’s eyes burned with a hatred so sharp it made my skin crawl. “They’re using my research to do it. Those villages, all those attacks—”
He stepped closer, towering over me.
“—it’s all because of you.”
The world tilted.
My vision blurred.
I felt the wall at my back, but it didn’t feel real anymore.
“No,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he hissed. “All. Because. Of. You.”
I stared at him. Something inside me shifted—hardened, or maybe shattered so cleanly it left only steel behind. Because I straightened. Because I finally stood against him instead of beneath him.
“You’re blaming me for this?”
“There is no one else, Persephone. Only you.”
The disgust in his eyes was so sharp it made me feel physically sick.
“You couldn’t just fade away, could you?” he went on, voice tightening. “You had to be different. You had to kill that boy. Do you know his father is on the council? He wants answers. What am I supposed to tell him, Persephone? That my daughter murdered another child in a tantrum?”
“Murdered? I didn’t murder—”
