Sterling Tower breathed in a strange, suspended rhythm—a quiet before the kind of storm that didn’t roar, but whispered. A storm made of shadows, memories, and bloodlines. Alina felt it first, an instinctive tightening beneath her ribs as the monitors flickered. The lights didn’t dim, the power didn’t glitch, but something in the tower’s pulse shifted.

Someone else was here.

Someone who had no right to be.

She leaned in closer, brushing exhaustion from her eyes. Patricia ...