The Door She Walked Through

"Fifty. Forty-nine. Forty-eight."

Priya's phone kept counting in Priya's shaking hand, and the voice coming out of it was flat and patient, the way deep water is patient.

"That's the one who gave the order," the not-Maya whispered. "I remember being told about them, before I was finished. They're not Harlow."

"Then who?" Maya demanded.