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“They felt her,” Lucas says slowly.

“Yes.”

That’s the second truth locking into place.

Hollowborn don’t respond to fear. They respond to authority they don’t understand yet.

“And the Gospel?” he asks.

“They felt it too.” The truth settles ugly and precise. “That broadcast wasn’t cruelty. It was calibration.”

Confirmation that Selah isn’t breaking the way they need her to.

Confirmation that whatever survived me didn’t die with me.

Confirmation that she isn’t just collateral anymore.

Lucas watches me carefully now. “You didn’t tell Selah any of this.”

“No.”

“Even after Scarlett.”

Especially after Scarlett.

Because I’ve seen what happens when truth lands all at once on someone who doesn’t know how to stop moving forward. I’ve buried the aftermath. I still hear it breathing some nights.

I step outside.

Cold air cuts deep. Selah is on the back steps, shoulders drawn tight, gaze fixed on the tree line like she’s already mapping routes, already counting bodies.

She isn’t shaking.

That terrifies me.

“Malek,” Lucas says quietly behind me. “She can become more.”

I don’t turn. Because I already know.

The speed.

The clarity.

The way violence aligns when the choice is finally made.

I’ve been molded by that shape.

“More what?” I ask anyway.

Lucas exhales through his nose, choosing words instead of sharpening them. “More than a monster when mercy won’t work.” A pause. “Doesn’t mean it has to be the only thing she becomes.”

The words land harder than they should.

“Confirming they have Cass changes everything,” I say.

Lucas nods. “Daddy dearest will expect you to rush. Get sloppy.”

“No,” I agree. “He’ll expect a spectacle.”