Her message came at midnight, brief, efficient and as sharp as a blade’s edge.

> We move this weekend. You’ll handle the logistics. No traces.

I stared at the screen far longer than I should have, rereading her words like they were poetry written in code. Nova didn’t need to say more; I could hear her voice between the lines; low, calm, and lethal.

The way she planned her vengeance fascinated me. There was no rush, no anger spilling out through her fingertips. Only precision. Control. ...