The sound of clapping echoes across the rooftop.
Slow.
Measured.
Almost polite.
My heart pounds so loudly I can barely hear the rain anymore.
Eduardo Valez steps forward from the shadows.
My father looks exactly the same as he always has. Immaculate suit. Perfect posture. Silver hair untouched by the storm. Like the rain itself refuses to touch him.
“Well,” he says calmly, “that was impressive.”
Adrian doesn’t move. Marcus straightens beside the disabled bomb. I stand frozen between them.
“Hello, Alessa.”
My father’s voice is warm. Familiar. The same voice that used to read me bedtime stories. The same voice that walked me down the aisle three years ago.
My chest tightens painfully. “You tried to kill us.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Technically, I tried to correct a mistake.”
