The city was nothing like the forests she’d left behind.

Isabella stood on the edge of a crowded street, her hair tucked beneath a hood, the smell of exhaust and rain pressing down on her. The skyline rose in steel and shadow, neon lights bleeding through the morning fog. Somewhere in that maze of towers, beneath layers of glass and corruption, was her only way forward — Moretti Tower.

But getting there meant stepping back into a world she no longer recognized.

She’d been running for days, moving from safehouse to safehouse, following the map Dante had drawn on the inside of her memory — the turns, the back routes,...