Scarlett had just stepped into her apartment when her phone buzzed in her palm.
A message from Cassian: one screenshot of Verity's livestream data from the night before, and a photo of a nursing home bill with the total circled in red ink.
Scarlett's knuckles went bone-white. Her nails bit into the edge of her phone.
Her breathing stuttered as she typed, her fingertips pressing so hard against the screen it felt like the glass might shatter.
Scarlett: I'll go. But whether Lucien helps or not is his decision, not mine to control.
Cassian: If you ask him, he'll agree. Tomorrow, don't be late.
Scarlett hurled her phone into the couch cushions, her chest heaving. She crossed to the floor-to-ceiling window and stared out at the lights of Valemont. For the first time, the city felt cold en
