Victor heard it before anyone else. His silver head snapped toward the windows overlooking the avenue.

I watched the flicker behind his cold eyes. It wasn’t fear. Not yet. It was something sharper: recognition. Victor had heard that synchronized wail before, decades ago, in the boardrooms and guarded estates where his enemies had fallen.

Oblivious, Daniel stood and resumed his performance for the audience.

“Everyone,” he announced, spreading his arms in a gesture of magnanimous sorrow. “I apologize for this distressing scene. As many of you know, my wife has always struggled with severe paranoia and jealousy about my success.

Today she lost her grip on reality and tried to attack an innocent, pregnant woman.”

Celeste took her cue, widening her doe eyes, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth, leaning into his side.