Chapter 19 · Open Before Midnight

The demolition clock hits the west wall at eleven-fourteen.

I watch the red digital numbers burn into the concrete like a brand. VEX DEMOLITION. MIDNIGHT. Forty-six minutes left, and my atrium is full of people who want Ivy dead more than they want to leave alive.

She stands in the center of the food court, arms crossed, staring them down. Three collectors, two mercs, one guy who looks like he wandered in from a card game and forgot to leave. They're all armed. They're all pissed. And they're all technically customers.

"So," Ivy says, voice flat. "You staying or buying?"

The lead collector—tall, shaved head, jacket that costs more than my old rent—grins. "We're here for you, Rowan. You think a fire sale changes that?"

"I think," I cut in through the speakers, "that if you're standing in my mall past midnight, you're trespassing. And I don't handle trespassers gently."

His grin doesn't move. "Then we'll be gone by 12:01. With her."

Ivy's hand drifts toward the knife on her belt. I ping her gently through the floor—a single vibration under her boot. She freezes.

I don't want her to fight. Not because I'm scared she'll lose.