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Chapter Twenty-Two
The press labeled it the New Dawn.
They painted murals of my mother and whispered stories about how her daughter had undone decades of control in a single night. But reality wasn’t as poetic as they wanted it to be.
Scarlett’s body had vanished.
One moment she was sprawled on the gravel, her systems fried. The next—gone. No trace. No trail. Not even a heat signature. And Liam couldn’t stop pacing since.
“Too easy,” he muttered, pacing the length of the safehouse living room. “It’s never this easy.”
“It wasn’t easy,” I snapped, rubbing my temples. “We barely made it out. Half the city’s still wired to her network. And if she’s really gone, why are encrypted pings still being received on her server ports?”
Tamar, sitting cross-legged on the couch, sighed. “Because dead monsters echo.”
Freya, typing furiously on the tablet, didn’t look up. “Or because the monster isn’t dead. Just hiding. Adapting.”
I stood. “Then we adapt faster.”
Liam finally stopped pa
