“No, Frederick. You are.”
His mouth curls, more snarl than smile. “I’ve already contacted Earth First.”
My stomach drops.
“They’ll run a full panel. DNA. Neural. Behavioral. If she’s what I think she is, they’ll know how to fix it.”
“You’ll kill her.”
“No,” he says. “I’ll normalize her. And if you try to interfere…”
He doesn’t finish the threat.
He doesn’t have to.
That night, I don’t sleep.
I sit by Chelsea’s bed, watching her chest rise and fall. Every so often, she twitches—dreams of stars, maybe. Or of red eyes watching over her.
I clutch the edge of the blanket, fists trembling.
Kallus, if you can hear me…
Come back.
Please.
We need you.
My world gets smallerevery day.
Frederick tightens the leash slowly, methodically. It starts with missed messages from Chelsea’s school. Then the removal of my name from her emergency contact list. One day I arrive topick her up and am told she’s already been taken—by her father. No warning. No discussion.
Now, I stand outside the nursery, fists pounding the oak with a desperation that hollows out my bones.
“She needs me!” I scream, forehead pressed to the wood. “Frederick, let me in!”
From the other side, silence. Then footsteps. Measured. Cold.
He appears in the hall, composed as ever, a glass of something amber in his hand and smugness painted across his face.
“No,” he says calmly, like it’s obvious. “You need correcting.”
“You bastard?—”
But he’s already walking away.
Two orderlies appear from behind the corridor. And behind them, a doctor in a white coat, glancing nervously at a datapad.
“Lady Ayla,” the doctor begins. “We’ve been asked to administer a behavioral wellness protocol?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I whisper, voice low.
I back away from the door, reaching under the hem of my robe.
The Reaper blade is still there.
Small. Folded. Hidden in the lining Kallus had sewn for me long ago.
