The rain had turned the driveway into a slick mirror, reflecting the dim streetlights like shattered stars. Carson’s car rolled slowly toward the warehouse Ezra had insisted they investigate, an abandoned site at the edge of the city, rumored to have been one of Justina’s mother’s early operational hubs. The sky was a bruised mix of black and purple, and the wind tore at the edges of the car, rattling the windows like impatient ghosts.

Justina sat in the passenger seat, fingers tapping ...