Chapter 56

Harmony

Asher locked the front door the second Eric disappeared toward the ridge.

His movements were too sharp for someone who usually covered fear with jokes.

He checked windows, pulled curtains, paced once, twice, three times.

Then he planted himself between me and everything else.

Olivier lay on the rug, wrapped in blankets, his skin washed-out and waxy beneath the lamplight.

His breaths were shallow but steady. For the first time since childhood, he didn’t look like a shadow looming over me. He looked… breakable.

I knelt beside him, the cold from the porch still clinging to my bones. My fingers hovered near his arm but didn’t touch.

“Asher?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah.” His voice was clipped, focused.

“Is Sandy okay upstairs?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’s fine.”

Okay, she was safe. No, that wasn’t the right word. It was a lie wrapped in hope.

Olivier stirred suddenly, a rough exhale, his head rolling toward me. His fingers twitched beneath the blankets.

“Harm…” he rasped. As much as I hated that nickname, I exhaled.

I leaned forward. “I’m here.”

He blinked slowly, unfocused. “Don’t… don’t let him in…”

A shiver crawled up my spine. “Who? Olivier, you have to tell me who.”

His hand shot out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength. Asher tensed instantly, shifting closer. Olivier’s grip tightened again, nails biting into my skin.

“SableFox,” he whispered.

The name hit like a detonation.

The dark-net handle. The ghost user. The one who knew my mother’s nickname. The one who watched too closely, too patiently.

“Olivier,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “Why would SableFox know little thistle?”

His breath broke. A laugh scraped out of him wrong, jagged.

“Because it was me. Because our mother loved you more. Because our mother saw the bad in me since I was a kid. I was like our father, and you were pure like her little thistle.”

The room tilted.

“I was there first,” he continued, words spilling out of him. “Before Vesper. Before everyone decided you were the smart one.” His eyes burned, unfocused. “I watched you build it. The relays. The encryption. How clean it was. How fast.”

Asher went still.

“You walked away,” Olivier went on. “You left the channels behind like they’d rot on their own.” His mouth twisted. “I took them. I took Vesper. I needed Dad to see I could do it too. That I wasn’t just the screw-up son standing in your shadow.”

My chest hollowed.

“You used my alias,” I whispered.

“Yes,” he snapped. “I made it better. Faster.” His voice cracked. “I wanted him to need me the way he needed you.”

Asher’s voice cut in, low and deadly. “And SableFox?”

Olivier’s gaze dropped. Shame bled through the panic. “That was me too. A second layer. A way to watch without being seen.” His breath stuttered. “I wasn’t supposed to hurt her. I was supposed to scare her. Keep her close. Under control.”

A sob tore out of him.

“But he took it from me,” Olivier gasped. “Ravenhill found the channels. Learned how they worked.” His eyes snapped back to mine, wild. “He’s using your relays now. Your old encryptions. He sees everything. I can’t shut it down.”

The truth slammed into place.

“You weren’t protecting me,” I said hoarsely. “You were trying to prove something.”

His face collapsed.

“I didn’t want to be nothing. Our father will be out of prison soon. He’s getting older. I should be the head of the family. Me. You don’t care about the business. You sent him to jail and he still prefers you.

A knock rattled the back door.

“If you’re SableFox and Vesper, then who is Ravenhill? He was dead, Olivier. Tell me now,” I demanded but another knock rattled the door. This one sharper. Deliberate and too calm for someone fleeing through the snow. My heart stopped. Asher shot to his feet, every muscle going taut.

“Stay behind me,” he said, the softness in his voice gone. This was the fighter, the protector, the brother who could break a man’s ribs with one clean strike.

The knock came again. Three times. Measured.

Asher moved silently toward the mudroom, shoulders squared, steps controlled.

He lifted his hand to signal me to stay.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Something in the air shifted with a pressure tightening like a hand closing around my lungs.

Behind me, Olivier pushed up on an elbow, trembling, eyes blown wide.

“Harmony, don’t answer, don’t . . .”

Asher reached the door. Placed his hand on the knob. The radio clipped at my hip crackled violently. Eric’s voice exploded through the static:

“Harmony, MOVE! He’s headed your way. DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR!”

Asher froze.

My blood iced.

Olivier’s voice broke into a hoarse scream, “HARM, RUN!”

The doorknob twisted.

And the world split open.

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