“What?! What happened?” Malcolm snapped, stepping forward. “Don’t stand there gasping like that—you’re making *me* lose my damn composure.” 

 

Jane sucked in a deep breath, steadying herself. “The Guardian Quarter… it was raided. A group of masked men in black same ones who worked with Rebecca back then.” 

“Shit,” Allison cut in, eyes narrowing. “Who told you that?” 

Jane didn’t answer. Instead, she reached into her vest and pulled out two small pins distinctive silver emblems shaped like crossed swords over a crescent moon. The emergency sigils of the Quarter. A silent plea for aid. 

Malcolm went deathly still. 

“Jane, you stay,” I ordered, already turning toward the door. “Allison,...