Ramirez Gonzales.
“This is a damn mansion!” Hannah yells. I walk past Noah, Lucia, Brody—God, all of them—into another area of the house. The contractors are milling about, inspecting the elevators. The last thing I want is for a pregnant Ariel to be forced to navigate the stairs. I’m not entirely sure where she is at the moment, but I know she’s somewhere in this estate, surveying the life she’ll be patterned to.
My mother is here too, poking around as if she thinks my new purpose is to make Ariel suffer.
“Keep the third floor empty today,” I tell the floor manager of Gambit, exhaling for what feels like the tenth time through the phone. As that call wraps up, I dial another number—Echo. I needed his expertise in selecting the best security system to manage everything that comes in and
