Daphne POV

“Panic tastes like metal in your mouth.”

The first thing I notice is the sound, not words, not breathing, just silence.

That sharp, electric kind of silence that means something has gone terribly wrong.

“Xavier?” I press the phone closer to my ear

The evening light glows soft and amber through the curtains, the house too peaceful for the tone in his voice when he finally speaks.

“It’s the system,” he says, clipped, fast. “Something’s wrong.”

My stomach drops. ...