Rain poured down in torrents, the lead-gray sky seeming ready to collapse at any moment.
Raindrops the size of beans hammered the asphalt, the windowsills, and the roof of a black Magic Car, producing a rapid patter.
The car door was flung open.
Salina Goldstein stepped out of the cabin, splashing through the standing water. Her black raincoat snapped wildly in the gale.
Rain streamed from the edge of her hood like a curtain, yet it could not hide the flames of resolve burning in her eyes.
Her back was ramrod straight as she strode forward. Two Aurors in raincoats hurried after her, though their eyes carried worry and hesitation.
"Think it over again, Salina!" one of them called. "Maybe things aren't what they seem? We should investigate more thoroughly for a few more days..."
"Lopez, either go back or stop talking and come with me!" Salina shouted. "I will never regret this, and I will never turn back!"
The other two fell silent, but neither of them left.
The three crossed the empty street toward a high-rise ahead. A brand-new golden sign hung over its entrance:
"FMC · New York Branch."
Salina shoved open the heavy oak door. The wind chime above it rang urgently, only to be swallowed by the roar of the storm outside.
FMC's main control hall was spacious but cluttered. Posters covered the walls, prop crates were piled in the corners, and several casually dressed staff members were gathered around a flickering Streaming Mirror, adjusting something.
Different scenes scrolled across the enormous curved main screen wall. Supervisor Nelson clutched a stack of scripts and loudly directed the busy staff.
At the sound of the doorbell, everyone's eyes turned toward the three unexpected visitors at the entrance—especially the woman in front, who was taking off her