Chapter 3

The steel door of the underground bunker hissed as it sealed shut.

It was a soundproof vault beneath the Long Island estate. No cell service. No Wi-Fi.

Conrad tossed a manila folder onto the black walnut desk.

"The toxicology report from the private lab in Manhattan," Conrad said. His voice was gravel.

Jonas snatched the paper. His eyes scanned the text.

High concentration of hallucinogenic and neurotoxic compounds.

Jonas slammed his fist into the concrete wall. The skin on his knuckles split. Blood welled up.

"That bitch," Jonas snarled. "She actually poisoned her in our own house."

Eleanor collapsed onto the leather sofa. She buried her face in her hands. Dry sobs racked her shoulders.

"If we hadn't heard that voice," Eleanor gasped, "my baby would be brain-damaged right now."

Greggory paced the floor. He pulled a cigar from his pocket and bit the end off. He didn't light it.

"We all hear it, right?" Greggory asked. His chest heaved. "The voice in her head. The predictions."

Devontae sat in the corner. He stared at his laptop screen.

"It defies every law of physics," Devontae muttered. "But it's real. I checked the hedge fund code she mentioned yesterday. There was a backdoor vulnerability. Exactly where she said it would be."

Jonas wiped the blood from his hand. He looked at his father.

"We need to go to her room," Jonas said. "We tell her we can hear her. We make her tell us everything that's going to happen."

Conrad nodded slowly. He picked up his cane.

"Let's go," Conrad said.

He took one step toward the steel door. He opened his mouth to say, We are going to tell Ariel.

His throat closed.

It wasn't a metaphor. An invisible hand clamped around Conrad's windpipe.

His face turned dark purple. The veins on his forehead bulged against his skin. He dropped his cane. His hands clawed at his own neck. He couldn't pull in a single ounce of oxygen.

"Dad!" Jonas yelled. He lunged forward.

Jonas thought, I need to tell Ariel.

Instantly, Jonas's vocal cords paralyzed. His knees buckled. He hit the floor, gasping like a fish on dry land.

Eleanor screamed. She rushed to them.

"Stop!" Devontae yelled. He realized it first. "Don't think about telling her! Stop thinking about it!"

Conrad forced his mind blank. He focused on the concrete floor.

Air rushed back into his lungs. He coughed violently, spitting saliva onto the floor. Jonas dragged himself up, his chest heaving.

They sat in silence. Cold sweat soaked through their expensive shirts.

"A rule," Devontae whispered. His hands shook. "We can use the information. But we cannot tell her. The universe won't let us."

Greggory let out a dark, bitter laugh. "No wonder she thinks we are psychopaths. We can't even explain ourselves."

Conrad picked up his cane. He leaned heavily on it. His eyes hardened into black stones.

"From this second on," Conrad ordered, "Ariel's thoughts are classified as Tier-One corporate intelligence. We act. We do not speak."

Suddenly, Ariel's voice bloomed in their minds again, as clear and sharp as if she were standing right beside them.

Ariel was in her bedroom on the second floor.

This mansion is so creepy at night, Ariel thought. I bet Jonas is sleeping like a baby. He doesn't know Caspian is going to steal everything from him tomorrow.

Jonas's head snapped up. His heart skipped a beat. Caspian was his best friend from college.

Caspian took the bribe from the rival firm, Ariel's voice echoed in their heads. He's going to copy Jonas's cloud keys at the golf club tomorrow at 3 PM.

Jonas's stomach twisted into a tight knot. Acid burned the back of his throat.

Conrad stared at Jonas.

Jonas pulled out his phone. He opened his messages.

Caspian: Golf club tomorrow. 3 PM. Don't be late, brother.

The time. The place. The person. It was a perfect match.

Whatever, Ariel thought. The Washingtons are doomed anyway. I need to save up for a plane ticket to Hawaii and run away.

The five of them sat in the bunker. They listened to her plan her escape from their sinking ship.

Jonas gripped his phone until the screen cracked. He wasn't going to let this ship sink.