You never forget the sound of a door locking behind you. Not when it leads to a place like Forsaken Shrine — the club my stepfather owned, where Tokyo’s shadows moved like whispers and nothing was ever what it seemed.

I was just a girl when I realized our family wasn’t like others. My stepdad had connections — dangerous ones. Men in suits who bowed low but carried knives. Women with perfect smiles and empty eyes. And then there was my little sister, Jooma. Sweet, curious, and too young to understand the world she’d been born into. I tried to shield her, guide her, even when I didn’t know where we were going.