“I’m not lying.” Sophia didn’t look at her. “Cary didn’t die in the fire.”
Audrey’s mind went blank, her whole body locking up.
“I saved her,” added Sophia.
Of all the impossible things in the alley, that was the one that split Audrey open.
Memory struck hard and without mercy: Cary’s body on the floor, the blood, the helpless certainty that she was gone. Audrey had lived inside that certainty for ten years. She’d let it calcify. It had become one of the only fixed truths in a life built from contradictions.
Now, even that was gone.
Sophia’s knuckles grew pale as the blade drifted, turning until the tip lined up exactly with Audrey’s heart. “Now I’m going to kill you. And you, Mihail, are going to tell me where my other daughter is.”
The knife Audrey had been so relieved to see in her mother’s hand—the one she’d assumed was meant for Mihail—steadied in front of her.
All she could do for a few seconds was stare at it.
Sophia’s eyes slid to Audrey at last. “Circumstance gave you a losing hand. Me, too. There are only bad options for gold triads like us. I see that now.” She wavered, grief flaring out momentarily from her aura. “You think I want this? I failed before, and I can’t risk it again. I’ve watched what happens when gold triads—those with rare, coveted powers—are found. The ones I tried to protect ended up worse than dead. I won’t stand by and let you become another weapon for Ryker to use.”
Gold triad. Those words resounded again like a death sentence. It wasn’t a diagnosis, nor was it a favor—it was a category made for those who had powers people would kill for.
“I’m killing Audrey,” Sophia insisted. “Then you tell me where Cary is.”
“Audrey lives,” Mihail said. “As for Cary—she’s gone. Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.” His eyes shifted to Audrey. “We need both of them.”
Somewhere behind Audrey, Emerson still hadn’t gotten up, but his rough breathing scraped over the pavement.
“Mom, don’t,” Audrey whispered. “You’re wrong. I’m not powerful. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Sometimes thoughts just reach me. Please stop.”
Sophia’s eyes were wild. The blade wavered. “Don’t move,” she warned. “It’ll be fast.” She steadied her weapon, mouth trembling. “I’m doing this because I love you.”
Fear crushed Audrey’s ribs, like a suffocating band had been wrapped around her.
“I was wrong. I couldn’t keep you hidden. Not from them.”
“Please,” Audrey begged, moving closer despite the hovering weapon pointed at her chest. Tears clouded the world. “Please don’t do this. Please.”
Sophia shut her eyes. “If there had been any other way,” she whispered, “I would have taken it.”
“What happened that night?” Audrey sobbed. “Why? Did I cause the fire?”
“No,” Sophia said. “I started that fire to kill you.”
Audrey stilled.
The sentence didn’t even feel real at first. Her mind rejected it before it understood it. Her mother hadn’t failed to save her. Hadn’t made some catastrophic mistake. She’d meant it.
Everything else in the alley fell away.
Audrey drove herself into her mother’s mind on instinct. Images from the night of the fire assaulted her—all from Sophia’s perspective.
And she wasn’t lying. Not one bit. Audrey knew it with the sick certainty only telepathy could give.
The truth sank its claws in.
Her mother had tried to kill her before—and was about to finish the job.
“My flames came through the floor,” Sophia went on, her voice flat. “I tried to consume you. But too much went wrong. I meant to hide you with your father. Then I realized what you were. Your father wasn’t supposed to die—but you were.”
