"I can see why Jax doesn't like you borrowing his car," I said, attempting to pry my stiff fingers from the armrest. There were clear indents in the pleather where my nails had been.

Zaphron was already out on the sidewalk, surveying the near empty street in front of Dad's estate. He smirked at me through the window. "You don't like my driving?"

"I value my life," I said, extricating myself from the passenger seat and joining him on the street. "And you drive like a madman."

He laughed and turned to face me, the intense colour of his eyes stark against the day-old bruising underneath them. "Well, this madman's driving got us here in good time. So we actually have a chance to search the place properly."

I snorted. "I think that had more to do with the weather warning keeping everyone at home. The roads were practically deserted."

"Which is why it was perfectly fine to allow for a little extra speed," Zaphron retorted with a playful poke to my ribs.

I drew breath to reply, but my gaze snagged on Dad's estate and all thoughts of dangerous driving were wiped from my mind. The tinted windows of the high-rises reflected the brooding sky, almost blending into it. It was a sight that should have felt familiar—like returning home, but all I got was a sinister sense of déjà vu. Like I was revisiting a past life that had ended violently.

My hands shook and my eyes began to prickle. Was I ready for this?

A gentle hand on my shoulder blinked me back to reality. Zaphron was looking at me, a tiny crease between his brows. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said.

I squared my shoulders, trying to pull myself together. "It's not like we have any other leads," I said, striding off toward the entry.

He rushed after me, grabbing my hand as I extended it toward the scanner on the first security gate. "Whoa, slow down. The second your ID registers on the security system there'll be an army of people here to take you away."

I froze, embarrassment flooding my cheeks with colour. Shit. I had not thought that through.

Zaphron's gaze drifted from my face to our clasped hands—and I realised neither of us had let go. In fact, our fingers had somehow intertwined themselves without either of us noticing. The sight made my palm sweat against his.

Zaphron turned to the gate and scanned his free thumb on the reader—entering a pin. My eyebrows shot up when the gate clicked open.

"ZenSecure access," he explained, pulling me through. "I've had to guard most the people that live here at some point."

I stayed close to Zaphron's side as we headed into the estate.  Anticipation grew in the pit of my stomach at the thought of being in a high security building—especially one protected by ZenSecure. I half expected to meet armed guards at every turn, but the lobby and elevators remained eerily empty—and Zaphron's hand around mine was unexpectedly comforting.

His ZenSecure access got us through the various security scanners, all the way to the twentieth floor. At the end of the hall, I caught sight of Dad's apartment door and jerked to a stop—our hands tearing apart.

Projected holo-tape blocked the entrance—flickering neon red letters covering the door.

Crime scene. Do not enter.

A wheezy gasp slipped from my throat. Was this where it had happened?

Zaphron stopped a few steps ahead and shot me a questioning look.

"Was this where—" I took a gulp of air, hiccupping on it "—Dad was—?"

Realisation dawned on Zaphron's face and he shook his head vigorously, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "Oh shit. You thought—" He doubled back to take my hand again. "Nothing happened to Alistair here. They just put the signs up to preserve possible evidence."

I exhaled and nodded, trying to ignore the morbid part of me that wondered where Dad had actually taken his last breaths. Would Zaphron know?

He glanced around, scanning the empty hall. "Do you need a minute?"

I shook my head, not taking my eyes off the red lettering. Every minute we spent out in the hall was another minute someone could stumble across us.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

Zaphron towed me to the door and I noticed the usual lock had been replaced with a standard pin pad. He stepped through the holo-tape and for the briefest moment the words crime scene were projected onto the back of his messy black hair. He typed in a code, squeezing my hand as the door unlocked.

Crossing the threshold was like taking a punch to the gut. I absorbed the carnage that surrounded us, the air knocked out of me.

There was enough stormy grey light from the windows to make out furniture strewn haphazardly across the living room. The couch was upended, its cushions shredded and thrown across the floor. My eyes caught a trail of glass and followed it from where we stood in the entry, all the way to the kitchen. The source seemed to be the dining table—its frame lay upside-down with a few jagged shards remaining attached.

Tears flirted with my lower lids, welling too quickly to be blinked back. I could feel the weight of Zaphron's gaze on me and turned away, letting go of his hand so I could swipe at my cheeks.

"We can leave whenever you want," he said, a low, uncharacteristic measure of softness in his voice.

I surveyed the destruction, countless violent scenarios playing out in my mind. "I thought you said nothing happened here."

"Nothing happened to Alistair here," he confirmed. "But the place was thoroughly turned over afterward."

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and stared at the room through watery eyes, shuddering.

"Astrid, are you sure you're alri—?"

"Can you stop asking that?" I squeezed my eyes shut, wringing a stray tear from my lashes. My tone had come out sharper than I'd intended, but there was something about that question that was more triggering than comforting. Maybe it was because I had to lie every time someone asked.

I was definitely not alright.

Zenith had torn my life apart as brutally and thoroughly as she'd searched this apartment. I had to make sure I got the chance to repay her the favour.

Which meant keeping my shit together long enough to find something useful.

I took a deep breath and ventured further inside. The power must have been cut, because the bioscanner wasn't working and the entryway's vacuum sealed door hung aimlessly ajar. I picked my way through the shattered glass in the living room and headed for the kitchen. It was a mess. Drawers hung open—some had been removed entirely—their contents scattered across the floor or dumped in the sink.

An uncomfortable thought crossed my mind and I slipped down the hall to my bedroom. It was like the rest of the apartment, destroyed. I couldn't help but feel violated. My clothes had been thrown everywhere, boxes of stuff from the wardrobe emptied and scattered. Years worth of guilt-gifts and outfits Dad had bought me lined the floor. The sight made me sick with anger. These were some of the last things I had to remember him by—and they'd been tossed around like garbage.

I forced myself to continue down the hall to Dad's bedroom. It was in a similar disarray to mine. The contents of his wardrobe lay everywhere, joined by the filling of his mattress which was upended and gutted in a similar fashion to the couch. I checked the floor safe by the window and found it hanging open. Papers stuck out clumsily—one in particular catching my eye. A birthday card. I picked it up and flipped it open.

Darling Astrid,

Happy eighteenth Birthday! I can't believe that tiny baby who arrived a month early is now a fully-fledged adult! You know I am always proud of you in everything you do—more than you will ever know. You're my star. Wishing you nothing but happiness for the year ahead. Don't go drinking too much.

I love you,

Dad xx

PS. I've rented the lodge for the next few days. There's one more birthday gift there for you. Plus you can watch me fail at snowboarding, as usual.

I re-read Dad's words, tears spilling down my cheeks in tiny silent streams.

Glass crunched underfoot behind me as Zaphron entered the room. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted him a few feet away, directing his bright blue gaze over the damage. Our eyes met and he frowned. "Are you—"

"Don't," I warned. A sob choking out around the word. I started for the door, willing back the emotional explosion I could feel coming, but Zaphron caught me by the arm.

"Astrid—"

The tears took over before I could get away, drowning out everything. I barely registered Zaphron's arms around me until my face connected with the warmth of his chest, my sobs soaking into his shirt. I leaned against him, letting him take most my weight until my tears had subsided into hiccups.

"Dare I ask?" he murmured. His voice rumbled in his chest against my cheek.

I let out a weepy snort and straightened, freeing myself from his arms. My cheek burned where it had been pressed against him. "Nope," I said, stifling a sniffle into the back of my hand. "But I think I found a clue." I passed him the card.

His eyes skimmed the message, darting up to me with eager intensity when he was done. "The lodge?" he asked.

I nodded, closing my eyes and exhaling. "The lodge."