The giant screen on the building wasn’t just showing a key—it started counting down. Big red numbers lit up the night sky.
60…59…58…
The ticking drowned out even the sirens. It was this deep, heavy thud, like someone swinging a hammer straight into the street. Everyone around June just… stopped. New York froze. They weren’t puppets anymore, but something about the fear in the air turned them into statues. Every single person stared at their arm. The little silver dots under their skin started to glow, cold and blue.
“It’s moving,” Leo whispered and yanked up his sleeve. His face looked ghostly pale. “Mommy, the silver dot is crawling toward my heart.”
June grabbed his arm. She could see it—the tiny bit of silver, like a metal bug. It wasn’t hot like the yeast fire. It was cold, and it
