Chapter 25 · Don't Bring Her Here

The screen went black, and Rowan grabbed my wrist hard enough to make my fingers go numb.

"We leave," she said.

Not we should leave. Not Nia, that was bad. Just we leave, like the whole room had already caught fire and she was dragging me out by the collar.

Across the ruined ballroom, people were still screaming over the alarm. Knox's little donor gala had turned into broken champagne glasses, smoking ceiling panels, and rich assholes crawling behind tables because Rowan had dropped one light rig in the middle of his speech.

Jessa shoved through a knot of people toward us, her dark hair half out of its clip and a camera strap cutting across her chest.

"Tell me I got that," she said.

"You got my mom," I snapped.

Her face changed. Just for a second.

Yeah. She'd seen it too.

My mother. Alive. Barely moving inside a glass tank on the main screen. Her lips had formed the words again and again through the static.

Don't bring Rowan here.

Then Knox had killed the feed.

Rowan's grip tightened.

"Commander. We have thirty-eight seconds before building response seals the lower exits. We need to move.