d marble against my cheek. Then, t

e. His face, usually handsome, was twisted

e low and full of hate. "You and your

son, Luis. In this future, they had

the square was silent, watching. My father, Senator Clark Johns

ng to Maria, the woman he had insta

h a gasp, my

k penthouse, not on a cold execution platform. The sun was streaming t

he nightstand. It wa

ng the news?" she asked, h

window and looked down at the street. Far below, in front of the Capi

rgest private military contractor. And he was using his fame to demand the release of an immigrant wo

this is a political disaster. He wants you to call Rya

down. I used my family's influence to get Maria and Luis quietly deported. They were executed by their home

uld not make th

my voice col

ielle, you

is own choices," I interru

up th

my father, my family, and myself. The naive girl who died on that pl