Daria and I parted ways at the pod station as I headed home to my apartment tower.

Being my parents’ son came with enough strings to strangle me, but it did have its perks. Namely, being allowed a private pod. Skipping the queue for public cars, I took the lift up to the private tracks. I pressed my hand to the scan pad and ten seconds later, my pod glided up from the parking structure and then slowed to a stop in front of me.

It was only a two-seater, but it had more than enough room to stretch out. Sagging into the leather upholstery, I kicked my feet up on the seat across and leaned back to watch the city fly by. My playlist blasted on where it had paused on the way into work and the top headlines in science and politics scrolled across the window screens.

I flicked everything off to soak in a precious moment of silence. Nighttime pod rides had a quiet sort of Zen. The private tracks swooped around the spires of Alpha Citadel’s skyscrapers, traversing the maze of sparkling glass and reflected light.

It would be peaceful if my thoughts would still.

But they wouldn’t. They never did.

I had trials to check. New studies to read. An inbox to wade through. Piles of invitations to scan and then accept or reject. All in the pursuit of a future I didn’t want.

I rubbed my head, trying to ease the constant dull ache of stress and expectation. I’d chosen this path. If I didn’t keep faking my way forward, I’d never achieve my real goals.

The temporary quiet didn’t last. With no traffic clogging the private track, it took only minutes to reach the apartment. I had to mentally prepare for the party.

For my part, putting on a suit was easy enough. But convincing Cass to attend?

I doubted my sister had left her workroom in days. Probably hadn’t showered. She’d need more than an hour to shift from programming binge to senatorial ball. If she could be tempted to go at all.

The lock slid open after I pressed my hand to the sensor pad. As I cut across the living room, I caught a hint of orange-scented cleaning product. The smooth, white countertops shined in the kitchen and floor was clear of the crumb-trail that usually lead to Cassie’s half of the apartment. The staff of Gray Helix servants must have just cleaned.

Cassie’s bedroom was shut, but I didn’t bother. Instead, I knocked on the door to her workroom at the end of the hall. “Cass?” When no answer came, I knocked again. “Need you for a party.”

Still no response. She either had headphones in, or she was determined to ignore me. Rather than knocking for nothing, I tapped through the screens on my watch to shoot her an alarm.

Sirens blared behind the door.