The sirens weren't stopping.
I stood in the wreckage of the loading bay, the golden syringe clutched in my frozen fingers, staring at the empty space where Celeste had been standing thirty seconds ago. Jace was beside me, chest heaving, his eyes still flickering blue-gold-blue like a war that wouldn't end. The flash drive in his hand was the only proof we had that any of this had happened.
"Jace." My voice sounded far away. "The police are coming. We need to go."
"I'm not leaving her."
"She's gone. Your parents took her. If we're still here when the cops arrive, we're going to have a lot of questions we can't answer."
He didn't move. His gaze was fixed on the concrete floor where his sister had been, where the gold light had swallowed her whole. The journalist was still outside—I coul
