Chapter 11 · The Door His Dad Left Behind

The study smelled like old paper and something sharper. Metal, maybe. Blood that had dried into wood grain years ago.

Kai pulled another drawer open. His ribs still ached from the chain Vera had locked on him two hours back, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Not from the mark. From the name Luca had dropped like a blade into his chest.

Lin Hao.

His father's name. In this city. In this world.

The desk was old Red Heron work, carved from something dark and heavy that didn't match any wood Kai knew. Three drawers down the left side, two on the right, and a shallow one across the top. He'd already torn through the top and both right-side drawers. Nothing but clan records, gate repair logs, budget notes written in a script he could barely parse.

Vera was outside the door. He could hear her pacing. She'd told him he had twenty minutes before Luca's people came back through this wing, and he'd already burned ten.