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Greg ran toward his dad’s apartment, the sound of his racing pulse beating in his ears. Dread had pooled and festered in his stomach, and the familiar sensation of his heart clenching in fear robbed him of the ability to breathe. He’d felt that intense fear far too many times in his life already— when he’d received the call telling him that Charlotte was being held captive in Portland by Erikson’s pack, and two months earlier when Charlotte had been taken by Emmerson. His dad was his only other family, and Greg’s instincts were telling him that something was very wrong. Kennedy still lived in the Master’s wing, his apartment separated from the rest by a door that was no longer kept locked and guarded. While Dorothy had opted for a new apartment out of the Master’s wing and had made quick