Everyone except the decoys.
The bodies we dressed in evening wear and positioned throughout the house. The ones that will burn beyond recognition. The ones that will make Viktor Tarasov think he won.
At least for a little while.
Long enough for us to regroup. To find the mole. To hit back.
But first, I need to tell Aoife the truth.
I glance in the rearview mirror. She's on the back seat now, curled into herself, the ruined midnight blue silk clinging to her like shadows. Her carefully styled hair has fallen loose. Her face is streaked with tears and mascara.
She looks destroyed.
Because of me.
Because I couldn't risk telling her. Couldn't risk the mole finding out that we knew about the attack. Couldn't risk everything we'd planned.
Even if it meant breaking her.
I open the door. The cold air hits me like a slap. It's colder out here than in the city.
I walk around to the back door. Open it.
Aoife doesn't look up. Doesn't move. Just stays curled on the seat like if she makes herself small enough, she'll disappear.
"Come on," I say quietly. "We're here."
Nothing.
"Aoife."
Still nothing.
I crouch down beside the open door. Reach in. My hand finds her shoulder, and she flinches at the touch but doesn't pull away.
"I need you to come inside," I say.
"Leave me alone." Her voice is wrecked. Raw.
"I can't do that."
"Everyone's dead. Just let me—"
"Reilan's alive."
Aoife goes completely still. Then, slowly, she lifts her head. Looks at me with eyes that are red and swollen and full of something that might be hope or might be rage.
"What?"
"Your brother is alive." I keep my voice calm. Steady. "Everyone is alive."
She stares at me. Doesn't speak. Doesn't move. Just stares like she's trying to decide if I'm lying or if she's lost her mind.
"That's not possible," she whispers finally. "I saw it. I saw the house explode. I heard them—"
"You heard recordings." I shift closer, still crouched beside the open door. "Everything you heard, the party, the voices, the music, it was all recordings playing through speakers."
Her face goes blank. "No."
