turned the entire family against her, made her so toxic that even acknowledging her existence was politically dangerous.
But knowing it intellectually and feeling it emotionally were different things.
The fragile walls she'd built around herself started to crack.
Thessian arrived mid-morning, bringing supplies from the nearby town. He found her still at the table, staring at the screen with empty eyes.
"Any progress?" he asked, setting down bags of food.
"No," she said flatly. "Project Replica doesn't exist. Every lead is dead. Every facility is gone. It's like the entire program was erased the moment Daemon died."
"Your family?"
She didn't answer. Just turned the laptop toward him so he could read the messages.
He read in silence, his expression darkening with each one. When he finished, he looked at her with something that might have been pity. She hated it.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
