The morning after the truth broke felt nothing like victory.

It felt like standing in the wreckage of a war no one had really won.

Outside Carson’s penthouse, the city’s skyline shimmered under a thin film of smoke. The headlines screamed betrayal, corruption, justice, each word as heavy as soot. Inside, silence pressed down like a storm waiting to fall.

Justina stood barefoot in the middle of the room, staring at the blank television screen. The reflection that looked back at her wasn’t ...