The Whitmore estate’s rain-soaked garden thrummed with danger, the storm’s relentless downpour blurring the edges of the world. Floodlights sliced through the darkness, their beams catching on wet leaves as Lena Hart—Eleanor Whitmore—crouched behind a dripping hedge, her heart pounding like a war drum. In her jacket pocket, the key to the locker pressed against her ribs, alongside her father’s coded letter warning of the Consortium, a shadowy cabal led by Victor Grayson. ...