She grabbed her cell phone, rose from the platform bed, and cautiously paced out of her bedroom. Every few seconds her bare feet squeaked against the cold hardwood floors. The front door was shut and the deadbolt locked. The door to the second bedroom, which she used as a home office, was also closed, hiding it from the open-concept living room and kitchen. She’d found that pictures of pandemics around the world were a real mood-killer for company and gentleman callers, so she always kept her office door shut.

At the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, she peered down at Peachtree Street, which was mostly deserted at this hour. She felt a chill through the glass; it was colder than usual outside for late November.

She waited, still hoping the home phone would ring. She had considered canceling the landline a dozen times, but a few people still had the number, and for reasons she couldn’t fathom, the cable and internet bill actually came out cheaper with the home phone.

She ran a hand through her shoulder-length brown hair. Her mother was half-Chinese, half-German, and they shared the same porcelain skin. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d gotten from her father, who was English, and had died when she was six.

She plopped down on the gray fabric couch and tucked her freezing feet under her bottom, trying to warm them. On her cell phone, she did something she hadn’t done in a long time—something she had sworn she would stop doing: she opened Google and searched for Desmond Hughes. Hearing Desmond’s voice had rattled her. His last words—You’re in danger—still lingered in her mind.

The first hit was the website for Icarus Capital, a venture capital firm. Desmond was listed first on the Our People page as the founder and managing partner. His smile was confident, maybe even bordering on arrogant.

She clicked the Investments page and read the introduction:

It is said that there’s no time like the present. At Icarus Capital, we disagree. We think there’s no time like the future. That’s what we invest in: the future. More specifically, we invest in people who are inventing the future. Here’s a sampling of those people and their companies. If you’re inventing the future, get in touch. We want to help.

Peyton scanned the companies listed: Rapture Therapeutics, Phaethon Genetics, Rendition Games, Cedar Creek Entertainment, Rook Quantum Sciences, Extinction Parks, Labyrinth Reality, CityForge, and Charter Antarctica.

She didn’t recognize any of them.

She clicked the next link in the web search results, which was a video of Desmond at a conference. An interviewer off-camera asked a question: “Icarus has invested in a really eclectic mix of startups, everything from pharma, biotech, virtual reality, grid computing, and even extreme vacationing in places like Antarctica. What’s the thread that ties it all together? For the entrepreneurs out there in the audience, can you tell them what you’re looking for in a startup?”

Sitting in a club chair on stage, Desmond held up the mic and spoke calmly, but with infectious enthusiasm. A slight grin curled at the edges of his mouth. His eyes were focused, unblinking.