2My billionaire mother left my twin sister and me sitting alone at our eleventh birthday party after every invited child mysteriously canceled. Then one of New York’s most feared mafia bosses walked into our ballroom carrying two birthday gifts, called our dead father his “brother,” and Mom came running downstairs screaming, “Get away from my daughters!”

The wind rushed past my ears as we slid downward through the dark steel chute. It lasted no more than five seconds before our wheelchairs hit a cushioned hydraulic pad at the bottom, coming to a smooth stop.

Emergency overhead strip-lights flickered to life, casting a warm amber glow down a long, subterranean concrete tunnel.

Beside me, Esme was catching her breath, holding her silver blue cylinder tightly against her chest.

“Ivy!” she gasped out. “Where are we?”

“Under the house,” I said, looking around.

Footsteps echoed from the top of the access hatch above us. A hatch door opened, and Dante dropped down gracefully, landing on his feet like a shadow. He didn't have a single scratch on his charcoal suit, though his tie was slightly loosened. He held a black tactical pistol down by his side.

A second later, Mom tumbled down the chute, falling onto the cushioned floor with a sharp cry. Her hair was messily undone, her expensive heels broken, tears streaming down her face.

“Julian’s secret lab...” Mom whispered, looking down the concrete corridor in utter shock. “He built this under the estate? How did I not know?”

“Because Julian knew you were surrounded by Sterling’s executives, Celeste,” Dante said coldly, holstering his weapon. He walked over to our wheelchairs and disengaged the safety locks. “This tunnel leads to an abandoned subway line half a mile north. My transport is waiting at the exit.”

“We can’t just run!” Mom cried, standing up and grabbing Dante’s arm. “Sterling has the police in his pocket! He has the board! If we disappear, he’ll execute a corporate takeover tomorrow morning!”

Dante looked down at her hand on his arm until she slowly pulled it back in fear.

“Tomorrow morning,” Dante said softly, “Sterling is going to announce that you and the twins tragically perished in a house fire caused by a gas leak. He’s already set the charges upstairs.”

Mom’s jaw trembled. “He... he would burn down the estate?”

“He’s a sociopath with a medical degree, Celeste. What did you expect?” Dante turned to Esme and me, his expression softening into that gentle warmth I had seen earlier. “Ivy. Esme. Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” I said, looking at the heavy leather journal in my lap. “Dante... is the cure in these cylinders real? Can it really make us walk again?”

Dante looked at my legs, then at Esme’s.

“Your father spent the last three years of his life testing it in secret,” Dante said quietly. “He proved it worked. But Sterling’s slow-poisoning pills have weakened your nerve pathways. To reverse the damage, we need a clean medical facility and a doctor who isn't trying to sell your father’s corpse to the highest bidder.”

“I know a doctor,” Mom blurted out suddenly.

We all turned to look at her.

Mom wiped her eyes, her face hardening with a cold, desperate resolve I had never seen in her before.

“Dr. Elena Vance,” Mom said, her voice shaking but firm. “Julian’s former head researcher. I fired her three years ago because Sterling told me she was embezzling funds. I realize now... Sterling framed her to get her out of the way.”

Dante stared at Mom for a long moment, evaluating her words.

“Where is she?” Dante asked.