Anya’s POVThe phone in my hand eventually felt heavier than the tape machine ever had. The voice on the other end didn't have Ethan’s desperate edge or Marcus Stone’s clinical chill. It was deep, smooth, and resonant, like a cello played in a room with perfect acoustics. It was the sound of someone who had never had to shout to be heard."The main event?" I repeated, my voice steady despite the fact that my world had just imploded for the tenth time tonight. "I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong number. I just finished a very long shift, and I’m officially retired from the industry.""A critic never truly retires, Anya," the voice said. "They just change their perspective. Ethan was a talented manager, but he was a small man with a small vision. He thought the North Star was a product. He didn't realize it was a frequency."I looked at Kai. He was leaning against the car, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in slow, ragged breaths. He didn't hear the voice. He didn't s
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