Red turned to Revelation, who was pounding her fist into the punching bag like it had personally wronged her. Each blow landed with brutal force, as if she had some deep, unresolved beef with it.

Pulling the cigar from her mouth, Red exhaled slowly, letting smoke curl into the air as she watched her daughter. She didn’t speak—of course she knew what was wrong. But something else was swirling in her head, something she couldn't shake.

It was the difference between her daughters.

Her lips curled faintly, remembering the moment she finally saw Genesis after twenty-three long years. It had taken everything not to reach out and grab her right...