The drive from JFK to the estate felt like the longest of my life.
City lights dragged past the window in blurred streaks, each one swallowing another second I couldn't afford to lose.
Tomas had briefed me on the plane.
Donna was locked in her bedroom.
Alejandro was subdued by security after attempting to force entry.
A gun found in his coat.
I didn't remember getting off the jet.
Didn't remember the cold slap of air on the tarmac or the guards opening the car door.
Didn't remember walking through the estate gates that had always felt too big, too polished, too safe.
I only remembered the sound of my mother's voice echoing down the hall as I climbed the stairs—
raw, trembling, cracked open in a way I had never heard in my life.
"Jace? Jace, don't—please—don't do something you can't take back—"
Her bedroom door was locked from inside.
Her silhouette shook behind the frosted glass, shoulders hunched, hands gripping herself like she was bracing for impact.
