Folly Mossbrook stared at the parchment, her gaze fixed on the number scrawled there. It was a monstrous figure, more terrifying than all the horrors of the wasteland combined. This was her debt, a gaping maw of obligation to Elysia Snowdrift, the unflinching banker of Cape Lumous. Elysia was no pushover; to secure the massive loan, Folly, in her misguided ambition, had gambled the family’s properties as collateral. Her sisters would kill her, she knew, if they ever discovered how she’d risked their modest wealth. But, she reasoned, it was their own fault for entrusting her with its management, for never bothering to audit her wild ventures.

  Each of her sisters possessed a defined purpose: Tansy, the stoic doctor; Lexa, the meticulous librarian; Flora, the verdant botanist; Viper, the cunning tamer. And Shade… Folly paused, a frown creasing her brow. How did one even classify Shade? Even if she couldn't neatly categorize her, Shade undeniably had something. Poor Folly, however, had nothing. She was meant to be the Entrepreneur, the one with the Midas touch, destined to elevate the Mossbrooks to the financial echelons of the northern families. Instead, she was on the verge of wiping them out, just as the families of the East had been erased from history.

  She fought back the tears, a familiar burn behind her eyes. Why did she keep failing? She worked harder than any of them, followed every business playbook to the letter, yet success remained a phantom, perpetually out of reach. This last project, a grand redevelopment close to the border wall with the wasteland, was a spectacular disaster, likely her final, crushing failure. She’d secured the land for a song, barely having to haggle. That wasn’t the problem. The mechanical workers she’d hired to construct the new district had malfunctioned, a systemic breakdown that spiraled into ruin. Their owners had sued her for damages, bleeding her funds dry in a matter of weeks.

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  Folly’s eyes were still glued to the parchment. One week. One single week remained to make an interest repayment. Fail, and the loan would default. Elysia Snowdrift would seize control of every Mossbrook property: the hospital, the library, the greenhouses, everything. Her sisters' outrage would be monumental, but it was Elodie Petalcrest, the city’s unyielding matriarch, whom Folly truly feared. Elodie had, after all, helped the Mossbrooks acquire their holdings in the first place. Folly considered begging Elodie for cash, but what could she possibly offer the princess in return?

  Then, a whisper of an idea, sparked by rumors. Elodie reportedly despised Ether, yet she was hosting a lavish ball to celebrate its discovery. Perhaps this could be Folly’s opportunity to win her favor. While the Tanzanights, Ether’s powerful discoverers, were distracted by the festivities, Folly could assemble a crew, infiltrate their mines, and steal the coveted substance. Elodie would surely pay a fortune to see a massive supply of Ether destroyed, its very existence an affront to her power.

  Folly knew exactly who to call. Tessa Skylar, despite her fabulous wealth, thrived on the thrill of thievery, renowned as Cape Lumous's greatest safe cracker. Tessa commanded respect in the criminal underworld and would know precisely which Veilstorms and Reddington sisters to enlist for such a perilous task.

  She knew this was wrong, a descent into an ethical abyss. But time was a luxury she no longer possessed. No, she had to do this. She had to protect her family’s legacy, no matter the risks. And Folly knew the risks intimately: Tessa and her crew could betray her. Elodie might not want to pay for the Ether. And worst of all, she risked provoking the Tanzanights. If they discovered her plan was connected to the Petalcrests, total war would be the only outcome.

  Folly paused, a cold dread washing over her. Was there truly no other way? No. This was the play. Besides, she'd been cursed with misfortune her entire life. Surely, just this once, luck would be on her side. Because if it wasn’t, then all hell was about to break loose, so if Folly Mossbrook failed again, everyone else would pay the price.