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“She was trying to speak. She was confused… muttering about babies and saying her brain was broken.”

Konstantin exhales. “That’s the sedatives, man. She’s been through a hell of a trauma. Drugs mess with your sense of time and memory. Tara’s mind moves at ten times the normal speed—being slowed down by meds is going to mess her up.”

“No,” I say, finally looking at him. “This was different. This wasn’t just a little panic from disorientation. This felt like… terror. Like she didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.”

Konstantin watches me closely. “Ruslan…”

“I already called Basil,” I cut in. “Told him to go over her miscarriage records from six months ago again.”

His jaw tenses. “Why the fuck would you do that?” he hisses, glancing at the door. “You want to open that wound? If she even had a miscarriage?—”

“She did,” I say. “That’s what the records say.” I stare at Tara’s face. “But my gut is screaming something else. That there’s more to it. That something’s been off this whole time. And I’m done ignoring it.”

He walks over and puts the coffee in my hand. “You’re trying to find someone to blame,” he says quietly. “That’s what this is. Tara nearly died in your arms. You’re spiraling.”

“Maybe.” I sip the coffee. It burns my tongue but wakes me up enough to hold eye contact. “But if I’m right… If there’s something we missed, then I’m not letting it go.”

Konstantin nods slowly. “What do you need?”

“Find Clyde Smythe.”

He lifts a brow. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I need to have a chat with him,” I say. “The sooner the better.”

“You realize who he is, right?” Konstantin holds my gaze.

“Depends on what you mean?” My head tilts slightly. “Are you asking me if I know he’s some sort of ghost ops elite eraser? Then yes. If you're asking me if I know he’s Jewel Initiative subject number ten, then yes, I know that too.”

Konstantin nods, then glances at Tara and then back at me. “Look, there’s something you should know.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I’ve been keeping an eye on what’s going on in Vegas.” He sighs. “And I’ve been looking into Tara’s miscarriage. Like you, something doesn’t sit right about it with me.”

“Then why try to make me feel like I’m paranoid?”

“I didn’t want to say anything until I had concrete proof.” Konstantin’s eyes darken and narrow. “What I’ve uncovered so far is that the doctor who saw to Tara when she had her miscarriage didn’t exist ten years ago.” Konstantin’s eyebrow rose. “He also excelled and rushed through med school like it was child's play.”

“Oh?” My brows shoot up as a tingling creeps up my spine. “What are you saying?

“Guess what his other job is and who he works for?” Konstantin says.

“Nikolas Vasilikis!” I guess, anger spurting through me.

“Yup, but under Sam Winters’s command in Nevada,” Konstantin explains. “They call him the specialist, and not because he’s a doctor either. Apparently, this guy can creep into your mind and extract what he wants. He always gets the answers they need from their targets.”

“Jesus,” I hiss, realizing what Konstantin is saying. “You’re telling me, he’s also Jewel Initiative?”

Konstantin nods. “He’s subject number eight.” He runs a hand through his head. “And right now, I also know that at least another two supposedly deceased Jewel Initiative escapees are watching us.”

“What the fuck!” I hiss. My skin is crawling. “Why?”

But I know before Konstantin answers. Our eyes turn to Tara. “We have their princess.”

“Get Clyde here,” I say, my eyes narrowing. “And your sister.”

“Petra?” Konstantin’s brows furrow. “Why?”

“She’s one of them,” I point out.

“No.” Konstantin shakes his head. “Petra was not there long enough.”