8:45 PM. The Penthouse.

Aria stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the skyline. From this height, the city looked like a circuit board of gold and amber. Far in the distance, the lights of the Link Bridge cut through the darkness like a suspended blade.

She held a glass of Pinot Grigio, but she hadn’t taken a sip in twenty minutes. The condensation dripped cold onto her fingers, but she didn’t wipe it off.

She was back in the car.

“I like the wind. It feels like flying.”

The words looped in her mind, over and over.

It wasn’t just what Vivienne said. It was the biological impossibility...