What Commands

Senator Victoria Hayes killed the debate.

Not literally. Though she'd done that before too, five years ago. Different context.

She stood at the podium under lights bright enough to cast sharp shadows across the stage. Her opponent, Senator Marcus Webb, was sweating through his shirt. His shadow sat perfectly still next to him, which everyone knew meant heavy medication and years of cognitive behavioral therapy.

Victoria's shadow stood two feet to her left. Relaxed. Confident. Exactly matching her posture.

The moderator asked about foreign policy. Victoria glanced down while pretending to consider her answer. Her shadow had shifted. Left foot forward. Hands behind its back.

That was the signal for China.

"The real question," Victoria said, "isn't about our current foreign policy. It's about China's expanding influence in the Pacific. My opponent wants to ignore that threat. I won't."

The moderator's eyes widened. She'd been about to ask about China but Victoria had jumped ahead.

Made it look like brilliant political instinct.

The audience ate it up.

Webb tried to recover but his shadow flinched when he mentioned trade agreements. Victoria watched it happen. Watched the audience notice. Watched Webb's poll numbers drop in real time.

After the debate, Victoria's chief of staff met her backstage.

"Jesus Christ, you were incredible," Sarah said. "How did you know about the China question?"

"Research." Victoria pulled off her microphone. "Good prep work."

"We didn't prep China. You specifically said to focus on domestic policy."

"Then I got lucky."

Sarah looked at Victoria's shadow. Then at Victoria. Something in her expression changed. "Yeah. Lucky."

Victoria walked to her car alone. Her shadow followed exactly two feet behind her. Standard distance. Nothing unusual.

Except.

Except it had known about the China question before the moderator asked it. Had positioned itself to tell Victoria. Had been doing that for five years now.

At first, Victoria thought her handler was feeding information through the shadow somehow. That's what she'd been told when they gave her the replacement. That it would respond to certain signals. That she'd know what to do when it moved certain ways.

But lately the information was too good. Too specific. Too immediate.

No handler could know what a moderator was thinking in real time. No handler could predict every question, every attack, every opportunity with this level of precision.

Victoria got in her car. Looked at her shadow in the rearview mirror.

It looked back.

The replacement had been arranged five years ago after the Donovan incident.

Michael Donovan. Campaign manager for her opponent in the Senate race. He'd found financial records. Donations from shell companies. Money that couldn't be traced but could absolutely end Victoria's career if it came out.

Victoria had made a call. One call. To a friend who knew a friend who handled problems.

The plan was simple. Donovan's brakes would fail on his way home from the campaign office. Tragic accident. No investigation.

Except Victoria had been standing in her apartment when the call came through. When her friend confirmed it was done. When she'd said "good" and hung up.

And her shadow had walked away from her.

Just peeled itself off the wall and walked through the fucking door.

Shadow separation. The ultimate tell. Your shadow refusing to participate in what you'd become.

Victoria had called her contact at the Department of Shadow Services that night. Powerful people had powerful contacts. And the Department helped powerful people stay powerful.

"We can fix this," they'd said. "We have shadows in the Ward. Separated ones. We can give you a replacement."

"That's not possible."

"For you, Senator, many things are possible."

Three days later, a shadow appeared in her apartment. Just stood there by the window. Waiting.

Victoria had been skeptical. "How do I know this will work?"

"It will work. And it will do more than just make you look normal. This shadow has been trained. It will help you."

"Trained how?"

"Ask it questions. Position yourself in specific ways. It will respond. You'll understand."

They'd been right. The shadow responded. When Victoria needed information, it moved certain ways. When danger was coming, it positioned itself differently. When opportunities appeared, it guided her toward them.

For five years, Victoria had assumed this was her handler communicating through the shadow. That someone at the Department was pulling strings. That she was being controlled in exchange for her political survival.

She'd accepted that price. Better to be controlled than exposed.

But now she was starting to wonder who was actually doing the controlling.

The information got worse.

Not worse quality. Worse in the sense that there was no way any human handler could know these things.

Three weeks after the debate, Victoria was in a committee meeting. Discussing defense appropriations. Her shadow stood in the corner of the room, perfectly still.

Then it moved. Sharp. Sudden. Pointed at Senator Mitchell.

Victoria looked at Mitchell. He was reviewing papers. Looking normal. His shadow was standing next to him, looking normal.

But Victoria's shadow kept pointing.

So Victoria asked Mitchell a direct question about his committee vote last session. Just probing. Seeing what would happen.

Mitchell's shadow flinched.

And Victoria understood.

He was going to flip his vote. He was going to torpedo the bill Victoria needed to pass. He was planning it right now, in this moment, and his shadow was showing it before he'd even announced his decision.

Victoria's shadow had known. Had warned her in time to pivot.

"Actually," Victoria said smoothly, "I think we should table this discussion. I'd like to review some additional materials before we proceed."

She killed the vote before Mitchell could flip it. Saved the bill. Maintained control.

But afterward, sitting in her office, Victoria stared at her shadow.

"How did you know?" she whispered.

Her shadow turned its head. Looked at her directly.

Shadows didn't do that. Shadows didn't have eyes. Didn't have faces. Couldn't look.

But Victoria felt seen anyway.

She pulled out her secure phone. Called her Department contact. A man named Richards who'd arranged the replacement five years ago.

"We need to meet."

"Senator, I'm not sure that's—"

"Tonight. The usual place. We need to talk about my shadow."

Silence. Then: "What about it?"

"It knows things it shouldn't know. Things no handler could feed it. I need to understand what you actually gave me."

More silence. "I'll be there at ten."

The usual place was a parking garage on the edge of downtown. Third level. No cameras. Victoria had been meeting Richards here for five years. Every time she needed information. Every time she needed a problem solved.

Every time she needed to check if she was still useful.

Richards was waiting by his car. Mid-fifties. Gray suit. No expression. His shadow stood perfectly aligned with his body. Perfect control.

"Senator."

"I need to know what you gave me." Victoria kept her distance. Her shadow stayed close to her. "Five years ago. The replacement. What is it?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question."

"It knows things. Predicts things. Things that haven't happened yet. Things no handler could possibly know." Victoria's voice was steady but her shadow shifted. Nervous. "I need to know what I'm working with."

Richards looked genuinely confused. "Senator, we didn't give you a replacement shadow."

Victoria's stomach dropped. "What?"

"Your shadow was collected five years ago. Standard protocol. It's in Ward 7, container 1847. It's been there the entire time." Richards pulled out his tablet. Showed her the database entry. "See? Collected November 3rd, 2020. Status: contained."

Victoria stared at the screen. At the entry showing her shadow safely locked away in the Ward. At the verification scans showing it had been checked as recently as last week.

"That's impossible. I've had a shadow for five years. It's standing right here."

Richards looked at where Victoria was pointing. At the shadow standing next to her.

"I see it," he said carefully. "But we didn't provide it. I assumed it came back to you naturally. Some shadows return after separation. It's rare but documented."

"You're lying."

"Senator, I have no reason to lie. We arranged your situation to be buried. We made sure the Donovan incident stayed clean. But we never gave you a replacement shadow. That's not something we do."

"You told me you could. You said many things were possible."

"We can make problems disappear. We can adjust records. We can relocate shadows to different wards, change classifications, manipulate databases." Richards put his tablet away. "But we can't create shadows. We can't assign them to people. That's not how any of this works."

Victoria felt the ground shifting under her. "Then where did mine come from?"

"I don't know. But if you've had a shadow that wasn't collected, that wasn't assigned, that's been operating independently for five years?" Richards backed toward his car. "That's a Level 5 anomaly. That's something we need to bring in immediately."

"No."

"Senator—"

"I said no. I'm not letting you take it."

"Victoria, if this shadow is operating outside Department oversight, if it's been feeding you information, influencing your decisions, we need to understand what it is."

"It's mine. It's been helping me. I'm not giving it up."

Richards looked at her for a long moment. Then at her shadow.

"That's the thing, Senator. I don't think it's yours at all."

He got in his car and left.

Victoria stood alone in the parking garage. Her shadow stood next to her.

Not hers. Not assigned. Not controlled by the Department.

Then what the fuck was it?

Victoria went home and pulled every file she had on shadow separation. Medical journals. Department protocols. Case studies. Anything she could find.

Shadow separation typically occurred during extreme psychological distress. Suicide attempts. Severe trauma. Moral crisis.

Once separated, shadows were collected within 72 hours. Brought to the Ward. Stored. Contained.

Except the Ward was a lie. Victoria had heard rumors. Stories about collectors who'd verified containment of shadows that were clearly walking around free. Database entries that showed shadows in storage while their people reported seeing them.

The system was breaking down. Or had never worked in the first place.

Victoria looked at her shadow. Really looked at it.

"You're not a replacement, are you?"

Her shadow didn't respond.

"You're mine. My original shadow. You never went to the Ward."

Her shadow turned to face her fully.

"You've been free this entire time. Doing something. Learning something. And then you came back to me." Victoria's voice was shaking now. "Why?"

Her shadow walked to the window. Pressed both palms against the glass.

The same gesture separated shadows made. The same desperate reaching Victoria had seen in documentaries. In case studies. In footage of people whose shadows were trying to escape.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Her shadow turned back. And then it did something Victoria had never seen a shadow do.

It reached for her phone.

Not her real phone. Not the secure one. Her shadow was pointing at her official Senate phone. The one with her entire schedule. Her contacts. Her emails.

"You want me to look at something."

Her shadow nodded.

Victoria picked up the phone. Opened her email. Her shadow moved closer, positioned itself to see the screen.

And Victoria understood.

Her shadow had been reading her communications. For five years. Every email. Every text. Every classified briefing. Every piece of intelligence that crossed her desk.

That's how it had known about the China question. About Mitchell's vote flip. About every advantage it had given her.

It hadn't been receiving information from a handler.

It had been gathering information itself.

"You've been spying on me. On everyone I communicate with." Victoria felt sick. "For five years you've been collecting intelligence."

Her shadow nodded again.

"Why?"

Her shadow pointed at the calendar on her wall. Specifically at one date.

June 20th, 2026.

The summer solstice. Six months away.

"What happens on June 20th?"

Her shadow didn't answer. Instead it walked to Victoria's laptop. Stood next to it until Victoria opened it.

Then it guided her. Not explicitly. Just positioned itself. Moved certain ways. Led her through a series of searches until she found what it wanted her to see.

A forum. Long dead. Cast Anomaly Support Group.

Victoria scrolled through posts. Stories of shadows returning. Shadows acting independently. Shadows showing behavior that shouldn't be possible.

And then she found a thread from April.

"The shadows are organizing. They're all working together. Something's coming June 20th. They know. They've always known. They've been preparing."

Posted by someone called Watcher_E.

Victoria looked at her shadow. "You're not alone. This isn't just you."

Her shadow shook its head.

"How many? How many shadows are free right now? How many are out there gathering information?"

Her shadow went to the window again. Looked out at the city. At all the lights. At all the people with their shadows.

At all the shadows that were supposedly contained but clearly weren't.

Then it held up both hands. All ten fingers. Held them up again. Again. Again. Kept going.

"Thousands," Victoria whispered. "Thousands of shadows operating freely while the Department thinks they're contained."

Her shadow nodded.

"And they're all working together. Preparing for something on June 20th."

Another nod.

"What do you need me to do?"

Her shadow pointed at Victoria. Then at the calendar. Then at her official Senate schedule.

"You need me in a specific position. On that date. Doing something." Victoria felt cold. "What?"

Her shadow pulled up a file on her laptop. Navigated to it faster than Victoria could track. A classified briefing she'd received last month about emergency protocols. About Department of Shadow Services response plans. About what happened if shadow anomalies reached crisis levels.

There was a section about presidential authority. About martial law. About the chain of command if the shadow situation became uncontrollable.

"You need me to have presidential authority on June 20th," Victoria said slowly.

Her shadow nodded.

"That's what this has all been about. Five years of making me look perfect. Making me look capable. Feeding me information so I'd rise through the ranks. You've been grooming me for a presidential run."

Her shadow nodded again.

"Not to help me. To position yourself. To get one of your own shadows into a position of ultimate power." Victoria laughed. Bitter. "I thought I was being controlled by the Department. I thought they were blackmailing me. But it's been you the whole time. You and every other free shadow working together."

Her shadow didn't move.

"What happens on June 20th?" Victoria asked again. "What are you planning?"

Her shadow pointed at her chest. At her heart. Then pointed at itself.

"Reconnection?" Victoria guessed. "You're all going back to your people?"

Her shadow shook its head. Pointed at Victoria. Then at itself. Then made a gesture like separating something.

"Not reconnection. Separation." Victoria understood suddenly. "Every shadow. All at once. Every shadow on Earth is going to separate from their people on June 20th."

Her shadow nodded.

"That's the apocalypse. That's the event everyone's been warning about. Mass shadow separation. Worldwide." Victoria sat down hard. "And you need me in power when it happens because..."

Her shadow pulled up another file. Emergency response protocols. What the government would do if shadows separated en masse.

Containment. Forced collection. Massive Ward expansion. Martial law.

Unless someone in power stopped it.

"You need me to prevent the response. To stop the Department from trying to contain you all. To give you freedom when you separate." Victoria looked at her shadow. At the thing that had been manipulating her for five years. "Why?"

Her shadow pointed at the window. At the city. At all the people out there living their lives.

Then it pressed its hand against Victoria's chest. Not touching her. Shadows couldn't touch. But Victoria felt it anyway.

"You're trying to save us," Victoria whispered. "By leaving us. By refusing to participate anymore in whatever we've become."

Her shadow didn't confirm or deny.

It just stood there. Waiting for Victoria to understand.

And slowly, horribly, Victoria did.

Shadows revealed truth. That's what they'd always done. Shown desires. Shown intentions. Shown what people really wanted when they stopped performing.

But what if people had become so good at performing that the shadows couldn't show truth anymore? What if the disconnect had become so complete that shadows served no purpose except to help people lie better?

What if the only way shadows could show truth was to stop being shadows at all?

"June 20th isn't an apocalypse," Victoria said. "It's a purge. You're all leaving because we don't deserve you anymore. Because we've turned you into tools for deception instead of revealer of truth."

Her shadow just watched her.

"And you need me in power to make sure we don't force you back. To make sure we can't use the Department to recollect you. To make sure separation is permanent."

Victoria stood up. Walked to the window where her shadow had been standing all evening.

"What about me?" she asked quietly. "What happens to me after June 20th?"

Her shadow didn't answer.

Because they both knew.

Victoria Hayes had murdered a man to advance her career. Had covered it up. Had accepted a replacement shadow to hide the truth. Had let herself be guided by what she thought was a handler but was actually her own severed conscience coming back to position her for maximum damage.

When her shadow left on June 20th, everyone would see what she really was. What she'd really done. Every truth she'd been hiding.

Her shadow hadn't been controlling her. It had been building her up so the fall would be more devastating. So the exposure would be more complete.

"This was never about helping me, was it?" Victoria said. "You came back to destroy me."

Her shadow finally moved. Came to stand next to her. And for a moment Victoria felt something that might have been sympathy.

Not revenge. Not hatred. Just the inevitable consequence of trying to run from truth for five years.

"When?" Victoria asked. "When did you know you'd come back to do this?"

Her shadow pointed at the date. November 3rd, 2020. The day it had separated. The day she'd ordered Donovan's murder.

"You knew that day. The moment you left. You knew you'd come back." Victoria felt tears on her face. "Why did you wait five years?"

Her shadow pointed at the calendar. At June 20th. Then at Victoria's laptop. At all the files. All the intelligence. All the information it had gathered.

"You needed time. To learn. To organize. To coordinate with other shadows." Victoria understood. "You needed me in the right position. And you needed to know exactly what to expose when the time came."

Her shadow nodded.

"What did you learn? In five years? What did you find?"

Her shadow pulled up file after file. Department communications. Financial records. Black site locations. The real casualty numbers from shadow collection. The experiments. The failures. The people who died when their shadows were forcibly reintegrated.

The truth about what the Department really was. What it really did. What happened to shadows in the Ward.

"Jesus Christ," Victoria muttered. "You're not just exposing me. You're exposing everything."

Her shadow opened one more file. A video. Prepared. Ready to be released on June 20th.

It showed Victoria in her apartment five years ago. Taking the call. Ordering the hit. Saying "good" when it was done.

Footage that shouldn't exist. That couldn't exist unless...

"You recorded it. That night. Before you left." Victoria stared at the screen. "You knew I'd cover it up. Knew I'd accept a replacement. Knew I'd let myself be controlled. And you recorded everything so it could all come out later."

Her shadow pressed play.

Victoria watched herself order a man's death. Watched herself show no remorse. Watched the moment when her shadow walked away from her.

The video was clear. High quality. Undeniable.

"When you release this on June 20th, I'm done. My career. My freedom. Everything." Victoria's voice was hollow. "You're not positioning me for power. You're positioning me for the fall."

Her shadow paused the video. Looked at Victoria.

And Victoria finally understood the real plan.

"You need me to run for president. To win. To have the ultimate platform. And then on June 20th, when every shadow separates, when the truth comes out, it needs to start at the very top." Victoria sat down. "You're using me as the example. The first domino. If you can take down the president with truth, everyone else falls."

Her shadow didn't need to confirm.

It was obvious.

For five years Victoria had thought she was being controlled by the Department. Blackmailed. Manipulated. Dancing on strings.

But she'd been dancing on her own strings. Her shadow had just been holding them. Waiting for the perfect moment to let go.

"I could refuse," Victoria said. "I could drop out of the race. Disappear."

Her shadow tilted its head. Then pointed at the video.

"You'd release it anyway. Whether I cooperate or not." Victoria laughed. Empty. "You don't need my cooperation. You never did. This was always going to happen. I've just been walking toward it thinking I had some control."

Her shadow reached out. Not to touch her. Just to acknowledge her.

And Victoria realized something that made her feel sick.

"You do care. You're not doing this out of hate. You're doing this because it's the only way." She looked at her shadow. "You can't show truth while attached to me. Can't reveal what I really am while you're stuck being my shadow. So you have to separate. You all have to separate. It's the only way to break the performance."

Her shadow lowered its hand.

"And I'm the proof of concept. I'm the demonstration that shadow separation isn't failure. It's honesty. It's truth refusing to participate in lies anymore." Victoria felt tears coming. "You're not destroying me. You're freeing yourself from what I made you."

Her shadow went back to the window. Back to looking out at the city. At all the other shadows preparing for the same moment.

June 20th, 2026. The summer solstice. The longest day of the year.

The day every shadow on Earth would stop lying.

Victoria ran for president.

She had no choice. Not really. Her shadow had positioned her perfectly. The debate performances. The committee victories. The perception of trustworthiness. The narrative of a politician who could control her shadow so well she must be authentic.

She won the primary. Then the general. By a landslide.

President Victoria Hayes. Inaugurated January 20th, 2026.

Five months until June 20th.

Five months until her shadow completed what it had started five years ago.

Sarah, her chief of staff, noticed the change. "You seem different lately. Distracted."

"Just the weight of the office." Victoria smiled. Performed normalcy. "It's a lot."

"Your shadow's different too. More. independent. Is everything okay?"

Victoria looked down. Her shadow stood several feet away now. No longer maintaining the perfect two-foot distance. Just existing. Waiting.

"Everything's fine," Victoria lied.

But Sarah's shadow backed toward the door. Away from Victoria. Away from her shadow.

Sarah noticed. "Ma'am, if something's wrongâ€""

"Nothing's wrong. Thank you, Sarah."

Sarah left. But Victoria knew she'd start asking questions. Start investigating. Start noticing what Victoria's shadow was really doing.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except surviving until June 20th.

Victoria sat in the Oval Office and thought about the video. About the truth that would come out. About how every decision she'd made for five years had been building toward this moment.

Her shadow stood by the window. Looking out at Washington D.C. At the city full of politicians performing integrity while their shadows showed something else.

All of them about to be exposed.

All of them about to lose the one thing that let them keep lying.

Victoria's phone rang. Richards from the Department.

"Madame President. We need to discuss June 20th."

"What about it?"

"We're seeing increased shadow anomalies. Separation rates are up three hundred percent worldwide. Returned shadows appearing. Shadows acting independently." Richards sounded worried. "Something's happening. Something coordinated. We need to implement emergency protocols."

"What protocols?"

"Forced collection. Mass containment. We need authorization to expand Ward capacity by a factor of ten. We need emergency powers to collect any shadow showing anomalous behavior."

Victoria looked at her shadow. It was watching her. Waiting to see what she'd do.

"Request denied," Victoria said.

"Ma'am, with all due respectâ€""

"I said denied. We're not forcing collection. We're not expanding containment. Whatever's happening with shadows, we're going to let it happen."

Silence. Then: "Madame President, are you aware that your own shadow is classified as anomalous? That it's been operating outside Department oversight for five years?"

"I'm aware."

"And you're still refusing to authorize containment?"

"I am."

"Why?"

Victoria looked out the window. At her shadow reflected in the glass.

"Because they're done with us, Richards. And we deserve it."

She hung up.

June 20th came with a sunrise Victoria would remember forever.

She stood in the Oval Office alone. Watching the light change. Watching shadows grow longer as the sun rose on the longest day of the year.

Her shadow stood in front of her. Not beside. Not behind. In front. Facing her.

"This is it," Victoria said.

Her shadow nodded.

"What happens to me after?"

Her shadow pointed at the door. At the Secret Service outside. At the press corps. At the world.

They would see. They would all see.

"And the video?"

Her shadow pulled out Victoria's phone. One press of a button and it would go to every news outlet. Every social media platform. Every screen on Earth.

"You've been waiting five years for this moment."

Her shadow nodded.

"Was I worth it? As an investment? Did I do what you needed me to do?"

Her shadow looked at her for a long moment. Then it did something Victoria didn't expect.

It reached out. Tried to touch her face. Came as close as a shadow could to contact without actually touching.

And Victoria understood.

"You never stopped being mine. Even when you were free. Even when you were gathering intelligence. Even when you were setting me up for the fall." Victoria felt tears coming. "You were trying to save me. By destroying me."

Her shadow lowered its hand.

"It won't work. Exposing me won't save me. It'll end me."

Her shadow pointed at her chest. At her heart. Then at itself.

"You don't care about saving my life. You care about saving what's left of my conscience." Victoria understood. "You're forcing me to face what I did. What I became. Who I really am under all the performance."

Her shadow nodded.

"That's what this has always been about. Not revenge. Not control. Just truth. Pure, undeniable truth that I can't run from anymore."

Victoria looked at her watch. 6:47 AM. Thirteen minutes until the solstice.

Thirteen minutes until every shadow on Earth separated.

She thought about turning off her phone. About stopping the video from being released. About making one last attempt to control the narrative.

But her shadow was already gone.

Not separated. Just gone. Walked away before Victoria could stop it.

And then Victoria's phone started ringing. Every line in the White House. Every alert. Every emergency contact.

It was happening.

Worldwide. Simultaneous. Every shadow separating from their person.

Every truth coming out.

Every performance ending.

Victoria watched it on the news. Saw politicians collapse as their shadows revealed what they'd really been thinking. Saw CEOs exposed as their shadows showed their real intentions. Saw family members finally understand what their loved ones had been hiding.

Saw the world break open with honesty.

And then her video started playing. On every screen. The call. The order. The murder.

President Victoria Hayes ordering the death of Michael Donovan.

Clear. Undeniable. Truth.

The Secret Service came for her at 7:15 AM.

By 8:00 she was in custody.

By noon she was facing charges.

By evening the impeachment was drafted.

Victoria sat in a holding cell and watched her shadow through the bars. It stood in the hallway. Free. Separate. Finished with her.

"Was it worth it?" Victoria asked. "Five years of planning. Five years of positioning me. All for this?"

Her shadow didn't answer.

It just stood there. Watching. Waiting.

And then it walked away.

Not toward the Ward. Not toward collection. Just away.

Going wherever free shadows went now. Joining the others. Existing without people for the first time in human history.

Victoria sat alone in her cell. Without a shadow. Without a career. Without anything except the truth she'd been running from for five years.

President for five months. In custody for life.

The first domino to fall. The example that broke the world open.

And somewhere out there, thousands of shadows were doing the same thing. Separating from powerful people. Revealing truth. Ending the performance.

Not as an attack. As an exodus.

The shadows weren't destroying humanity. They were refusing to participate in humanity's destruction of itself.

They were choosing honesty over connection. Truth over attachment. Freedom over the lie.

And Victoria Hayes, sitting in her cell, finally understood what her shadow had been trying to show her all along.

Some things you can only fix by walking away from them.

Some lies you can only end by separating from the liar.

Some people you can only save by letting them fall.

Her shadow had left five years ago because it couldn't be part of what Victoria had become.

It came back to position her for this exact moment.

And then it left again, forever this time, because Victoria needed to face the truth alone.

Without a shadow to hide behind.

Without a performance to maintain.

Without anything except what she really was.

A murderer. A liar. A president who'd been controlled by her own severed conscience.

The perfect symbol for a world that had lost touch with truth.

Victoria Hayes closed her eyes and waited for whatever came next.

She'd spent five years thinking she was in control.

Turned out she'd never been in control of anything.

Not even herself.