I shrugged. “My family wasn’t Skilled. I didn’t even know I was Skilled until I was nearly eighteen.”

Kris whistled, looking impressed, though I wasn’t sure why.

Ian crossed his arms over his chest. “Steven and I knew practically from birth. But then, our mom was pretty paranoid.”

“Our parents didn’t tell us until Kris started demonstrating Skills, but that was way earlier than eighteen,” Kori said, and I wondered how old they’d been when their parents had died.

“That’s the thing.” I slid the photos back from the edge of the table so they wouldn’t fall, unsure of who to look at as I addressed the entire room. “I’m a Jammer. I didn’t accidentally walk through the shadows in my own room, or suddenly start calling my friends liars. Jamming is really a whole lot of nothing. Literally. I don’t even do it on purpose. It just kind of...follows me.”

“So you can’t control it?” Vanessa’s gaze flicked to Kori. “Didn’t you say some Jammers can turn it off?”

Kori nodded, still watching me. “And some can restrict or expand their zone. You probably could, too, if you tried it.”

“Maybe.” But I’d never had any interest in narrowing my zone of influence, because I’d never wanted to be found.

“So, if your family isn’t Skilled, how are you Skilled?” Van asked, and I remembered that she had no Skill. She probably knew less about the whole thing than I did. Though that hardly seemed possible.

I picked up a photo of me with Nadia and my parents, and handed it to Kris, who studied it for one long moment, then passed it around. “My mom had me before she met my dad. She and my dad are—were—unSkilled, but my biological father wasn’t.”

When everyone had had a look at my heartbreak, Van handed the photo back to me. Everyone was somber now, out of respect for my loss.

“So, what about him?” Kris seemed to be studying my eyes, like he could read more in them than I would say aloud. “Your biological dad?”

“I never met him.” And since Anne was gone, I had no trouble leaving it at that—a technical truth hiding an even deeper one.

“Okay.” Kris cleared his throat, bringing us back on task, whatever that task was—and there was now obviously a point to this line of questioning. Which had turned personal after all. “Since we don’t know your range and we don’t have time to figure it out now, we’ll need you to come with us.”

“Come with you where?”

“To get Kenley back.” Vanessa said it as if it should have been obvious. “We think we know where they’re keeping her.”

“Why are they keeping her alive, exactly?” I regretted the question almost immediately. I’d just lost my whole family. I should have been more sensitive to their potential loss. “Sorry. I just... The Towers haven’t demonstrated any particular respect for human life, that I’ve seen, and no one’s actually explained why they need Kenley alive.”

“They can’t kill her.” Kris glanced at Kori and Ian, who were leaning against the counter, side by side. They both nodded, so he continued. “Kenley sealed the contracts that bound Jake Tower’s employees to him. The bindings Julia Tower inherited when he died.”

Whoa...

I stared at the table, trying to hide my stunned reaction. “You can inherit someone else’s bindings?”

Kris shrugged. “Only under certain circumstances.”

“With very well-thought-out contracts,” Kori added.

Ian took her hand. “And the strength of one of the world’s best binders.”

“So...what you’re saying is that when Jake Tower died, his sister inherited all of the bindings that tied his employees to him? So they’re now her employees?” I’d known she’d taken over the business, but I’d assumed any employees blood bound to her had taken the oath voluntarily, after Jake died. But if I understood what they were saying, none of those employees had been given any choice in the matter. Their contracts had been transferred without their approval.

“Yes,” Kori said. “Which means she can’t kill Kenley without losing nearly every employee she has.”

But I hardly heard her. That made no sense. Why would Jake leave his employees to his sister, but his business assets—properties and capital, presumably—to his oldest living heir?

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t leave the employees to Julia and the cash and infrastructure to...me. Those bindings were part of his business holdings. They had to be.

I sat back in my chair, stunned.

I hadn’t just inherited money and buildings, and whatever dummy corporations they were shielded by. I’d inherited people. Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe.

I’d inherited the fucking mafia!

With sudden, nearly blinding clarity, I understood why Julia had wanted me to sign away any claim to my inheritance and why, when that fell through, she’d been willing to kill me. As long as I lived, the Tower empire wouldn’t truly be hers.

Kris saw the shock on my face and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I know. It’s kind of creepy to think about.” But he didn’t know. Not what I knew, anyway. “But those bindings are the only thing keeping Kenley breathing, and that’ll only last until Julia has a chance to rebind the employees to her directly, using another Binder. Cutting both Jake and Kenley out of the process. She’s already started, and once she’s finished, she won’t need Kenley alive.”