The sound of Phil's laughter echoed through the shattered calm of the atrium, each note scraping like glass across my nerves. Outside, the sea churned in the moonlight, a mirror to the storm brewing inside the room. George stood beside me, tense as a drawn bow. Monica’s hand hovered over her concealed pistol, eyes scanning every corner.
Phil turned slowly, his grin feral, his voice low. "You think you’ve won, but you haven’t even seen the full game board. I told you, Kim. I was just the bait."
A low humming buzz filled the air, then a crackle.
The voice again. Not Phil’s. Older, smoother, steeped in control. It came through every speaker in the room and possibly frighteningly beyond.
"You’ve done well, Kimberly. The phoenix always rises from fire, doesn’t she? But what you forget is, t
