She Is with Grandma

The breach finds Maren Mercer alone in the upstairs apartment wearing Vivian's pale coat and sitting at the old breakfast table like an understudy who hates the role. There is no sign of Poppy except the half-eaten peach on the counter and one school shoe under the window seat.

"Where is she?" I ask before anyone can secure the room.

My mother looks at Tessa first, as if resurrection still outranks panic. Then she says the sentence that breaks the night in a completely different direction. "I moved her once. Vivian moved her again."

Nico starts ordering teams outward. Tessa crosses the room in two steps and slams her palms on the table hard enough to rattle the glass. "Where?"

Maren's composure fractures. "Vivian called and said the press conference made everything irreversible. She told me to collect Poppy from the nursery wing and bring her here until Owen decided whether to negotiate or counterattack. But when I arrived, Roman already had new instructions. They said the child was going to her grandmother because daughters listen better to lineage than fear."

"What grandmother?" I ask, because for one wild second I think she means herself.

Maren shakes her head. "Vivian. She means herself. She always does."

Nico finds a burner phone on the sink and hands it to me. There is one missed call, one voicemail. Poppy's voice, thin but trying to sound brave.

"Sloane? They said Grandma just wants to keep me quiet until Dad fixes the TV thing. But Grandma Vivian is crying and she never cries so I think this is worse than they're saying."

She lowers her voice. "We're driving toward the old orchard road. The one with the gates. Please hurry."

The message ends in a shuffling sound and another voice, distant but clear enough to chill me through: Vivian saying, "Tell the driver not the estate. The rural house. I want no drones."

Nico looks up from the phone trace. "Rural estate," he says. "We move now."