At that moment, the lights in the clinic flickered once, then died completely, plunging us into total darkness.

The emergency generator did not kick on.

In the silence of the blacked-out building, a phone began to ring on the receptionist’s desk.

The screen of the landline glowed bright blue in the dark.

The caller ID showed a number I recognized instantly.

It was Tessa’s personal line.

Marcus reached for his weapon.

The blue light of the ringing phone cast long, pale shadows across his face.

“Don’t answer it,” he said.

But my fingers were already moving toward the receiver.

I lifted it to my ear.

“Maren,” Tessa’s voice came through, sharp and cold despite the static on the line.

“I assume you received my little token,” she said.

I gripped the silver key tighter in my palm.

“Where is Rowan?” I asked.

“Rowan always did have a dramatic streak,” she said, her laugh dry.

“But even he cannot survive the currents of the East River in a sinking sedan,” she added.

My throat closed, and I could feel my pulse racing.

“You are lying,” I said.