Rossie stared at his outstretched hand. It was a gentleman's gesture, a stark, civilized contrast to the cold, supernatural terror that had just brought her world to its knees.
"What... what happens now?" she stammered, her voice small.
"Now, you come with me," Maher said.
"And if I don't?" she tried, a last, desperate spark of defiance. "What if I refuse? What if I scream?"
Maher's hand did not waver, but his eyes grew colder, flatter. "Scream, and I will leave. I will void the contract. And the protection will be withdrawn. Instantly."
His meaning was clear. The visions were not a threat; they were a preview.
"Your mother's heart," Maher continued, his voice a dispassionate, clinical scalpel, "which is currently frozen in its 12:00 beat, will simply... stop. The structural integrity of this building, currently held in magical stasis, will fail. Your father's investments will evaporate before his first hungover blink. They will all be free of my influence. Is that what you wish?"
He was offering her a choice that was not a choice. He was a monster, but he was a logical monster. This was the angst she was born for. Her life had been a lie, and the truth was that she was a sacrifice.
"You will let them live?" she whispered, the tears now for them, not for herself. "If I go with you... they just... go on? They won't even know?"
"They will wake up with a headache," Maher said. "They will assume you, in a fit of youthful rebellion, left the party early. They will be confused, then angry, then worried. But they will be safe. Their prosperity, and their protection, will continue, guaranteed by your... compliance."
Rossie looked past him, at the frozen tableau of her life. Her mother's bright, loving smile, forever aimed at a daughter she would never see again. Her father, his arm around her, a statue of paternal pride.
She had been their golden girl. Now she was their shield.
Slowly, deliberately, Rossie pulled herself to her feet, ignoring his offered hand. She stood before him, her spine straight, even as her heart dissolved.
"Alright." The word was small, but it was solid. "I will go."
Maher nodded once, a brief acknowledgment of her acceptance. He dropped his hand. "Good. You cannot take anything with you."
Rossie looked down at her silver party dress, the heels, the small, glittering purse that held her keys, her credit cards, and her phone. Her entire identity.
"This life is over," Maher stated, seeing her hesitation. "That life, the one you are about to begin, has no place for it. Leave it."
It was the most painful, heartbreaking command. With a shaking hand, Rossie unclipped the small purse from its chain. She let it fall to the marble floor. The sound of its landing was sharp, horribly final in the vast silence.
Then, she reached into the pocket of her father's suit jacket, her fingers brushing his cold, unmoving hand. She pulled out his keys. She did the same to her mother's purse, taking her phone. She gathered her own, her laptop from the study, and her car keys from the bowl by the door.
She piled them all on the central coffee table. A pyre of her former self.
"They will search for me," she said, her voice hollow.
"Let them," Maher replied. "They will not find you."
She took one last look. She walked to her mother and, with a trembling finger, touched her cheek. It was so cold.
"I love you, Mom," she whispered. She kissed her father's frozen temple.
She turned back to Maher Xander. The tears were gone. Her eyes were as cold and clear as his. She was no longer Rossie Aurora, the girl with post-grad angst. She was the payment.
"I'm ready," she said.
Maher did not move toward the elevator. He walked to the main balcony, the one that faced the glittering, frozen heart of Jakarta. The wind did not move. The city lights did not twinkle.
He stopped at the balcony's edge, thirty stories above the concrete.
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice not even trembling. She was past that.
Maher Xander looked down at the city he owned, then turned to her. His silver hair seemed to absorb the frozen moonlight.
"Home."
He stepped off the edge, into the abyss. He did not fall. He simply stepped away.
Rossie, the girl who had everything, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and followed him into the dark.