"My father, Mayor Dunhill, killed me. Can you believe it? His own flesh and blood," Sharon says, disbelief shaking her voice.
Shock rolls through me. I knew Dunhill was evil, but killing his own daughter is another level of cruelty, one that chills me to the bone.
"Why did he kill you?" I ask quickly.
"He was furious that my cover had been blown. He said I had let him down and embarrassed him. He said if I, his own child, couldn't finish an assignment, how could he expect any of his other subordinates to?" She scoffs angrily.
"I'm so sorry, Sharon," I say softly, and I mean it. Before she became someone too far gone to trust, I had loved her briefly as a second mom. She treated me with warmth and love, even if it had been an act. For that version of her, I was truly sorry.
"No, don't say that," she says firmly. "You need to listen."
The air in the veil pushes around us, thin and restless. Yurei suddenly appears behind Sharon. Her presence is steady, calm, and powerful. She places a hand on Sharon's shoulder, allowing her to stay but keeping her from moving beyond her grip.
Sharon continues, her voice trembling. "He's planning something. Something big. He wants the veil, and he wants your gift to obtain it. He will kill anyone in his way."
"We know about The Grey Book," I say, nodding, tears burning my eyes.
Sharon's eyes widen. "Then you must get it. It's the only thing he truly fears. The only thing that can stop him. Without it, his plans don't exist." She looks frantic as she speaks. I reach for her, but my hand passes through her like a mist. "Tell Andy, I'm sorry, and not to mourn for me. Especially after what I did. You may not believe me, but I did care about him. He wasn't just an assignment. I said that to hurt him and you."
Yurei's voice brushes my mind. "Her time is over. The balance of the veil is in your hands now. We, your ancestors, will help all we can. Don't fail me, daughter."
"Please stop him," Sharon says, looking at me one last time. Then the shadows rise around us. Yurei turns her toward them and walks until the shadows start to wrap around her. As they pull her into the darkness, her screams echo through the quiet place, then fade.
Yurei turns to me. Her eyes are ancient and sad as she repeats the same words as before. "The balance must be kept." Then the veil dissolves around me. I am back in my home, collapsing into Zeke's arms, sobbing.
"Rocky, what did you see?" Zeke asks, holding me tight.
"I saw Sharon," I cry between sobs. "She said Dunhill killed her." I wipe my face. "She said it was because she failed him by not completing her assignment. He thought if she could be exposed that easily, she was useless to him."
Uncle Donovan groans. "So he's not just evil, he's petty too. That's just freakin' awesome."
Zeke doesn't argue with him. He just rubs his temples like he's reconsidering every life choice that led Donovan into his world. After a few minutes, he squeezes my hand.
"Rocky, what else did she say?" he asks me.
"She said he's planning something big. It involves the veil and me," I tell them.
Uncle Donovan throws his hands up. "Of course he is. Why go small when you can go supervillain?"
Before I can answer, headlights sweep across the living room. A car door slams, then another.
"They're back," Zeke says, standing up.
Agent Williams is the first through the door, his face grim. Andy follows him in. He looks hollow, broken, like someone has scooped the life right out of him and left only a shell behind.
Uncle Donovan whispers, "Oh, man."
Andy doesn't speak. He collapses into Agent Williams, sobbing, raw and shaking. It is the kind of grief that tears something out of a person.
"I've got you," Agent Williams tells him, holding him tight.
"I'm… uh… going to pretend I'm checking the cameras," Uncle Donovan says, looking away and blinking fast. He doesn't move. He just doesn't know what to do with his hands.
After a long moment, Andy pulls back. "It was her," he says sadly, wiping his face. "It was really her."
"Dad, I'm so sorry," I say, stepping closer.
He nods, his voice cracking. "She didn't deserve that. No matter what she did."
"You're right," Agent Williams tells him, keeping a steady hand on his back.
"Roxanne," Andy says, looking at me desperately. "Did you see her in the veil? Did it show you anything about Sharon? Anything at all?"
I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should tell him. If he can actually handle it in the state he is in. But he needs to know.
"Yes," I nod, "Sharon came to see me."
"What did she say?" Agent Williams asks. I tell them everything she said. From how she was killed, why he did it, how he fears the book, and her message to Andy.
Uncle Donovan points at the table. "Then we are definitely stealing it. I mean, respectfully borrowing it forever. Although, I guess it's not stealing since it's rightfully Roxanne's." Everyone ignores him.
"Rocky, are you sure you're ready for this?" Zeke asks me.
"Yes," I say, nodding. The veil pulses warm and protective through me. Outside, my ancestors stand waiting in the fog.
Andy wipes his face again. He is steadier now. He closes his eyes and draws in a breath. When he opens them, there is something new in their depths. Resolve. "Then we need to stop him," he says.
Uncle Donovan claps his hands. "Alright, heist planning, round two. Let's go steal a cursed book from a corrupt mayor. Totally normal Tuesday."
Zeke shakes his head but doesn't hide the small smile. The fog outside has thickened into a glowing wall, swirling like a living barrier. The ancestors are not just watching anymore—they are preparing.
Agent Williams spreads the blueprints back across the dining room table. "We move tomorrow night. Dunhill won't expect anything this soon."
"You don't have to go," Zeke tells Andy, squeezing his shoulder.
"I'm going," Andy says, shaking his head. "He has taken everything from me. I won't let him take my daughter. I'm not sitting this out."
"Cool," Uncle Donovan says, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "Love the energy, my man. Very dramatic. Very inspiring."
"Donovan," Agent Williams scolds.
"What? I'm coping," my uncle retorts.
Agent Williams ignores him and moves on. "We enter through the east wing. Cameras are old. I can loop them for ninety seconds at a time. It will be tight, but we can do this."
Donovan raises his hand. "Ninety seconds? Are you kidding me? That's like a minute and a half. That's barely enough time for me to panic."
"Donovan, please stop talking," Zeke says, sighing.
"Still coping here," Uncle Donovan says.
"The book is in his private office. Sharon confirmed it," I tell them.
Agent Williams nods, then continues. "It's in a locked, reinforced drawer. Most likely, we'll need tools."
"Ooh, ooh," Uncle Donovan says, perking up. "Please tell me we're using something cool. Like a laser cutter or explosives?"
"No explosives," Agent Williams says flatly.
"You're no fun," Uncle Donovan pouts, slumping in his chair.
"He's trying to keep us alive," Zeke smirks.
"Safety is overrated," Uncle Donovan mutters. "I want a dramatic story."
"You'll get one," I say softly. The veil sends pulses through my body. They are strong, warm, guiding, and insistent. I close my eyes, and suddenly I can feel my ancestors whispering. They are trying to tell me something.
"Rocky?" Zeke asks, touching my arm.
"They're showing me something," I say, opening my eyes.
Agent Williams leans in. "What?"
"A path," I whisper. "A way into Dunhill's office without being detected. A way that's not on the blueprints."
"Secret tunnels? Hidden doors? Please say hidden doors," Uncle Donovan asks like a little kid.
I nod. "A maintenance corridor behind the archives. It's old, but it leads straight to the east wing."
"How do you know that?" Agent Williams asks, staring at me.
"The ancestors are whispering," I simply say. "They've been watching Dunhill far longer than any of us."
"Are you okay?" Zeke asks softly, worry in his voice.
"Yes, but they're urgent. We need to move fast," I tell them. Outside, the fog flashes with a ripple of white light.
Agent Williams folds the blueprint. "We finalize the route tonight. Then we rest, and tomorrow night we get The Grey Book."
Andy nods. "Then we don't waste another second."
The veil pulses again. It is still warm and protective, but underneath, there is a tremor now. A warning. Dunhill may not know exactly what we are planning, but somewhere out there, he is preparing for battle, too.
None of us sleeps much. The rest of the night is spent redrawing routes, packing bags, checking flashlights, and going over every possible way the plan can fall apart. Agent Williams keeps everyone focused. Zeke stays close to me, quiet but steady. Andy sits at the table with his hands folded so tightly his knuckles turn white, and Uncle Donovan keeps making terrible jokes that no one laughs at—until we do, because otherwise the fear will swallow the room whole.
By morning, the plan feels less like an idea and more like a promise. By afternoon, the house is too quiet. Every creak sounds like a warning. Every glance toward the windows finds the fog waiting there, patient and bright, as if the ancestors have been standing guard all along.
When night finally settles over the house, the heist no longer feels like something we are waiting for. It feels like something that has been walking toward us all day. The fog outside thickens into a glowing wall, brighter than before, swirling like a living shield. The ancestors are not just watching now. They are waiting.
"We move in ten," Agent Williams tells us as he checks his watch.
"Let's just get this done," Andy says, standing beside him. He is dressed in dark clothes, his jaw tight. He still looks exhausted and hollow, but determined.
Zeke adjusts the straps of his backpack. "We will."
Uncle Donovan paces in the living room, muttering under his breath. "Okay, so we're breaking into City Hall at night to steal a book from a corrupt mayor. Totally normal. Totally fine. I'm not panicking. You're panicking."
"You're definitely panicking," Zeke says, smirking.
"I cope through sarcasm," Uncle Donovan snaps. "It's basically a survival skill."
Agent Williams doesn't even look up. "If you two are done, we need to get ready to go."
I step closer to the window, and the fog presses against the glass, still pulsing with white light.
"They're ready," I whisper. Zeke comes to my side. We watch the fog shift again, swirling as a path slowly opens. "They're showing us the way."
Uncle Donovan peeks out the window and immediately steps back. "Okay, the fog is doing the thing again. The creepy breathing thing. I hate the breathing thing."
"You hate everything," Zeke says, elbowing him.
"Incorrect, nephew-in-law, I love snacks and naps and not dying," Donovan says dramatically.
"Focus," Agent Williams snaps.
Andy steps forward, voice low, "Roxanne, are you sure you're up for this?"
"I have to be," I say, nodding.
Agent Williams grabs his gear. "Alright, we have five more minutes. Finish gathering what you need."
Uncle Donovan raises his hand. "Before we go, I just want to say that if I die, delete my browser history."
"Donovan," Zeke groans.
"What? It's important," Uncle Donovan says. Andy huffs a tiny laugh. It is the first sound of life from him in days. But the moment doesn't last long. The veil pulses again. Sharp this time. A cold warning of danger. I stagger, grabbing the edge of the table.
"Rocky?" Zeke yells, catching me instantly. I close my eyes and feel something heavy and evil pressing against the edge of my senses. It is Dunhill. He is far away, restless, pacing, sensing that something is wrong. He doesn't know what we are planning, but he knows something is coming. My ancestors are showing me what they see.
"He feels it," I say. "He knows we're about to make a move. Not on the book, but him. I think he still believes we don't know the book exists."
"Then we move now, before he figures out what's going on," Agent Williams says, nodding.
"Let's end this," Andy says, straightening.
"Alright, team. Let's go get our book back," Uncle Donovan says, grabbing his backpack.
"You're unbelievable," Zeke says, shaking his head.
"I know," Uncle Donovan tells him proudly.
When we open the front door, the fog outside parts just enough for us to walk through. The ancestors are clearing a path, guiding us and protecting us as we step into the night. The veil pulses one more time. A steady, ancient heartbeat. The heist has begun, and for the first time, it feels like the dead are marching beside us.