The first retaliation came disguised as coincidence.
Three hours after the broadcast ended, the foundation's main account was frozen pending "review." An automated notice. No explanation. No timeline. Just a sterile message that rippled outward, triggering donor panic and board confusion within minutes.
Kiera was still in the car when Kade's phone lit up again.
"He moved," Kade said quietly.
She didn't ask how. She felt it in her bones—the familiar tightening, the way the air seemed to thin when something ugly shifted closer.
"Let it freeze," she said.
Kade glanced at her. "That will hurt people."
"It already has," she replied. "If we rush to fix it, he wins back control."
The car rolled through traffic, headlights bleeding into one another like a long, restless river. Kiera leaned her head against the window, watching the city blur. She thought of the women at the foundation. The ones who had trusted systems that failed them. The ones who believed visibility meant safety.
