The air in the back of the SUV was thick with the copper tang of blood and the electric hum of a countdown. Ethan sat with a laptop balanced on his knees, his face illuminated by the harsh blue light of the screen. Every few seconds, he winced, his good hand tightening around the steering wheel of the digital world he was currently dismantling.
"Ethan, you're losing too much blood," Lila whispered, her hands trembling as she tried to wrap a fresh bandage over his soaked shoulder. The SUV swerved as Marcus took a corner on two wheels, the tires screaming against the asphalt of the FDR Drive.
"I don't need blood, Lila. I need time," Ethan gritted out. His fingers danced across the keyboard with the precision of a concert pianist. "My father thinks the Ledger is just a book. He doesn't real
