The third knock made the locked door jump in its frame, but Manuel Nelson did not look away from the pale rings around his wife’s wrists.

The rhythmic, commanding footsteps echo through the grand entrance hall of the library, growing closer with terrifying speed. Julian rips the flash drive from the computer tower and shoves it back into his pocket, grabbing the physical ledger from the desk.

"They tracked the IP handshake," Julian says, his voice urgent. "The municipal network must have had a secondary corporate bridge we didn't account for."

Rosie doesn't panic. Her face hardens with a cold, clear focus born of years surviving inside Arthur’s clinical cages. "There’s a service elevator behind the microfilm archives," she whispers, pointing toward the dark stacks in the back of the room. "It leads down to the old book bindery tunnel connecting to the subway station."

Before they can reach the stacks, the heavy glass doors of the library shatter inward with a deafening crash. Two private security guards in dark tactical gear stride into the reading room, raising non-lethal suppression rifles. Behind them steps Arthur Vance, his gray hair perfectly styled, his dark suit immaculate, his expression a mask of chilling fury.

"Did you really think a public library terminal could outsmart a global telecommunications grid, Julian?" Arthur calls out, his voice echoing smoothly through the cavernous hall. He stops ten feet away, eyeing his daughter with cold, clinical disappointment. "Rosie, this childish rebellion has gone far enough. Step away from him."

Rosie steps out from behind the computer desk, standing tall beside Julian. She looks her father dead in the eye, her voice steady and ringing with absolute clarity. "The files are already uploaded, Father. The world knows what you did in the Lori Project. Your empire is finished."

Arthur’s face twitches for a fraction of a second—the only visible crack in his aristocratic facade. He realizes the devastation of the data drop, but his predatory instincts take over. If he cannot protect the secret, he will control the survivors.

"You overestimate the power of words, Rosie," Arthur says smoothly, raising his hand to signal the guards. "In a few minutes, our legal team will secure a court injunction labeling those files as corporate espionage and fabricated cyber attacks. And you two will be quietly returned to the medical wing for emergency psychiatric evaluation."

The guards advance, their heavy boots slamming against the wooden floorboards, closing the distance between them. Julian grips the heavy brass key in his pocket—the same key that started this entire cascade—ready to fight with everything he has left.

"Not this time, Arthur," Julian says, stepping forward to shield Rosie.

Suddenly, before the guards can raise their weapons, the heavy oak doors at the front of the library burst open again. A flashing cascade of red and blue police lights washes across the stained-glass windows, followed by the booming voice of a federal marshal echoing through the hall.