I stepped out, my heart hammering against my ribs, leading the way toward the service stairs.

Behind me, Matteo and Sloane followed in silence.

We reached the narrow, wooden staircase that the servants had used a century ago.

It smelled of dust and old wax.

As we descended, the sound of voices rose from the floor below.

I stopped on the landing, signaling for the others to remain still.

Through the floorboards, I could hear Harrison’s voice, muffled but distinct.

He sounded impatient, his tone sharp and commanding.

“Is the digital notary verified?” he asked.

Another voice, older and dry, replied. “It is.”

It was Dr. Marren.

“Once the transfer is initiated at midnight, the medical hold will take effect,” Marren said.

“Her objections won’t carry any weight.”

“She will be legally incompetent to dispute the transaction.”

My hands began to shake, and I gripped the wooden railing to steady myself.

They were talking about me as if I were already gone.

I looked back at Sloane, who was staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

She knew how close she had come to being a part of this ruin.