Chapter 3

The next morning, the snow paused briefly.

When I stepped out of Black Pine Station, my wristband read three miles.

Cassiel hadn't gone back to the compound.

He had his driver follow alongside the escort in an SUV. He tried to get me into the vehicle several times. Ronan blocked every attempt.

"The Council ruling specifies entry to Greybay on foot. The closer we get to the marker, the less room there is to bend the rules."

Cassiel pulled off his coat and threw it over my shoulders.

"Then walk slower."

The coat still held his body heat.

I remembered my third day back at the compound, when he brought me into the family conference room and made every underboss re-introduce themselves to me.

It was raining that day. He'd draped his coat over my head and said no matter what happened, he'd always be on my side.

Now the wind cut through the gaps in the harness, and that trace of warmth lasted less than a heartbeat.

Before noon, we reached the last patrol shelter.

Cassiel pulled out a reduced-sentencing petition that Father had prepared.

"As soon as you cross the marker, I'll submit this to the Council. Father will petition to convert the lifetime sentence to supervised custody."

The petition said I'd been raised in the wilderness, didn't understand family protocol, and acted on impulse. Every line was designed to lighten my punishment.

Not a single line said I was innocent.

The family authentication field at the bottom was blank.

"Have him authenticate it first," I said.

"Father will authenticate it when the time comes."

"Now."

Cassiel pulled the tablet back.

"Elaia, don't test me. You sign the supplemental confession, and Father will confirm the petition."

He'd given me what looked like a road home—but left the key locked in Viola's hand.

I took his coat off my shoulders and placed it back on the SUV's rear seat.

"Don't bother filing the petition either."

"What the hell do you actually want?"

"I want the Hall of Saint Oren's entry logs from that night. I want the fuel requisition records from the archive room. And I want Viola to sit for a formal Council interrogation."

Cassiel grabbed my wrist.

"She can't survive a Council interrogation."

My skin was so cold that he flinched. He loosened his grip and held the chain on my wrist instead.

"You've already walked eighteen hundred miles. A few years in Greybay, at most. Viola goes in there, she might not last three days."

I looked at him.

"So because I can survive, I'm supposed to die in her place?"

His mouth opened.

Outside the shelter, a file-upload notification chimed.

Milo was handing another electronic document to the Council recorder.

I recognized the thumbprint on it—the one Cassiel had pressed from my hand the day I left the compound.

But the text beneath it had changed.

Now I wasn't just confessing to arson. I was confessing that out of jealousy toward Viola, I had deliberately disabled the Hall's fire suppression system and intentionally led the Council to suspect her.

They'd copied my biometric authentication and used it on a brand-new statement.

Ronan snatched the tablet. His face turned to ice.

"Duplicating a detainee's biometric authentication is evidence fabrication."

Cassiel stepped in front of Milo.

"The original confession is already on file with the Council. This is just a supplemental note. It doesn't count as fabrication."

I took the tablet from the recorder. My finger hovered over the forged thumbprint.

They didn't just want me to take the fall. They wanted me to confess that I'd framed Viola.

"Delete it."

Cassiel said nothing.

"I said delete it."

"Once this statement uploads, Viola is completely in the clear." He wouldn't look at me. "You've already taken the arson charge. One more count of tampering with fire suppression won't change the sentence."

I let go of the tablet and held my hand out to Ronan.

"Give me a device that isn't connected to the Moretti network."

I recorded everything that happened that night. I named Viola and Nicolò's whereabouts. I laid out exactly how the Moretti family had falsified identity records and coerced me into accepting the transfer.

Ronan encrypted it himself and locked it in a Council evidence case.

Cassiel reached to stop him.

"That testimony can't go back to New York."

"Mr. Moretti." Ronan's hand settled on his holster. "This isn't your family's port."

Cassiel's hand slowly dropped.

A wall of black clouds rolled in from the north.

A patrolman burst into the shelter—blizzard would seal the road within thirty minutes. Best to wait until morning.

Cassiel looked at the sky. Then at Milo.

Milo leaned in and whispered:

"Miss Viola says if she doesn't cross the marker before midnight, the Council won't close the case with today's date. The Belrandis might cancel the engagement."

Cassiel's knuckles went white around his keys.

A moment later, he looked away from me.

"Keep walking."

"It's only three miles. It won't take long."