The penthouse at Sky Tower was unusually subdued as the family gathered. Jackson stood by the window, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the city below. Jacqueline sat on the couch, her hands clasped in her lap, her expression troubled. Celestine had her laptop open, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, though she hadn't typed a word since the meeting began. Ruth sat beside her daughter, her hand resting on Celestine's arm, her eyes moving from face to face.Samantha and Hailey sat together on the loveseat, their hands intertwined, their faces pale. They had just finished recounting their experiences—the gala, the restroom mirror, the park, the figure in the shadows.The room was silent.Miles sat in his worn armchair by the fireplace, his ancient eyes half-closed, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the armrest. He had been quiet throughout the testimonies, listening, absorbing, connecting threads that only he could see.Finally, he spoke."The veil between worlds has been thin

The penthouse at Sky Tower was filled with tension as the group gathered. Jackson stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed, his expression grim. Jacqueline sat on the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Evans and Lorraine sat together on the loveseat, their hands intertwined. They had just finished recounting their sighting of Admiral George Tony—the uniform, the voice, the way he had looked at Evans before vanishing into thin air.Hailey had been quiet throughout the meeting, her mind elsewhere. She had been thinking about her parents—the Sullivans—who had died at the hands of the Cranium Sect. She had never gotten closure. Never gotten to say goodbye. Never learned the full truth of what had happened to them.Now, with spirits appearing from the land of the dead, a question formed in her mind. A question she had never dared to ask.She cleared her throat, and everyone turned to look at her."Miles," she said, her voice hesitant but steady. "Is there a way to make the reap

Jackson was in his office at Sky Tower when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and frowned seeing that it was unfamiliar number.But he answered anyways, until the voice at the end made him almost go stiff in an instant."Senator," Jackson answered, his voice cautious. "This is unexpected."There was a long pause on the other end. When Moore spoke, his voice was thick, strained."Jackson, I need your help."Jackson leaned back in his chair, surprised. "Help with what?""My daughter. Joanne. She disappeared over a month ago. Her car crashed, but she wasn't found at the scene. I've had my best people searching, but they've found nothing. No leads. No trace. It's like she vanished."Jackson's expression softened. He remembered that Joanne had called him that night but that was all. He wasn't able to reach her and he hadn't heard from her ever since that time again."Have you contacted the police?""The police have been useless. They've classified it as a missing persons case, but

Celestine stood in the quiet consultation room, the medical files spread before her, her heart heavy with the weight of what she had discovered. Mrs. Morrison sat across from her, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes red from crying, her face etched with guilt and exhaustion.Celestine took a deep breath. "I can help Alicia. I believe I can reverse the damage caused by those treatments. But I need something from you first."Mrs. Morrison looked up, Hope flickering in her eyes. "Anything. I'll do anything."Celestine met her gaze, her expression firm but not unkind. "I need you to come out publicly. I need you to make an open confession that you were an accomplice with Linda Cresp in sabotaging my treatments and feeding your daughter therapies that were harmful to her health."Mrs. Morrison's face went pale. "Publicly? You want me to—""I want the truth to be known," Celestine interrupted gently. "Linda has been manipulating everyone—patients, families, the media. She's turned people

The remote cabin was deep in the woods, accessible only by a winding dirt road that was nearly invisible to anyone who didn't know where to look. Peniel had purchased it years ago under a false identity, a contingency plan for exactly this kind of situation.Now, he and Linda sat in the dim light of a single kerosene lamp, watching the news coverage on a small battery-powered television. The hospital raids. The arrests. The press conference where Mrs. Morrison had confessed everything.Linda's hands trembled as she wrapped them around a cup of cold coffee. "They're everywhere. The police, the feds, the Harts. They're closing in."Peniel didn't look away from the screen. "Let them.""Let them?" Linda's voice rose. "Peniel, they have Keller. He'll talk. He'll tell them everything. The hospital administrators, the doctors, all of it. It's only a matter of time before someone leads them here."Peniel finally turned to face her, his expression calm, almost serene. "That's why we have conti