The control room fell silent. The horns stopped. The incessant chattering of the relays died. For the first time in a decade, the Rayneshore control room was quiet. It was an unnatural, terrifying silence.

“Then I’ll go to prison,” Mia said flatly. “But if I don’t, we’re going to miss the real problem anyway. We’re drowning in noise.”

“Read that,” she said.

“You can’t,” Danny said, his voice low. “If you shelve it and the real pressure does spike, and we miss it—”