The shockwave from the explosion rattled the reinforced glass of the master suite, a dull, heavy thud that felt like it had detonated inside my own ribcage. The orange glow of the fireball painted the falling rain in shades of blood and rust, reflecting off Ethan’s face.
"Julian!" Ethan’s voice was a guttural rip of agony. He threw his entire weight against the bedroom door, the solid oak groaning but refusing to yield. "Julian, no! Open this door! Grace, call someone! Call the police!"
I lunged for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers trembling so violently I nearly dropped it. I swiped at the screen, but the display was dead. Not out of battery—the screen was a flat, mocking black with a single, glowing red icon in the center: a wolf’s head.
"Signal jammer," I whispered, my voice lo
