“Emily,” Daniel said, his voice barely audible. “Please. Think about what we built together.”

“We didn’t build anything,” I said. “You built a cage, and I let myself live in it.”

“I loved you,” he said.

I almost laughed.

“You loved having an artist wife to show off at charity galas,” I said. “You loved the way I made you look human.”

He closed his eyes.

The wind howled outside, rattling the glass of the penthouse.

My phone buzzed again in my hand.

It was another text from Arthur.

*Clara’s attorney just called. She is trying to negotiate a separate deal. We must move now.*

I looked up at Daniel.

He was staring at his desk phone, which had begun to ring for the third time.

This time, the caller ID showed Clara’s name in bold black letters.

“Answer it, Daniel,” I said, my voice cold. “Tell her you’re out of options.”

He reached out with a trembling hand and pressed the speakerphone button.

Clara’s voice filled the room, sharp and breathless.

“Daniel? Thank God,” she gasped. “The feds just served a search warrant at my office. They took my hard drives.”