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more harried than usual. “Listen, Jade, I know you’re going to hate this, but you’ve got to back off.”
    “What?”
    “The clearance level on the report from the sentinel event says Account Specialization, but that’s not who’s running this show.”
    “Then who—”
    “Destiny Division.”
    Jade sucked in a sharp breath, and she could practically hear Celia nodding.
    “All I could get out of them was that there’s some sort of massive destiny screwup and they’re investigating it themselves. Do what you can to repair the damage it caused in your area, but don’t get involved in whatever caused it.”
    “It was a murder,” she informed Celia. “Three murders, actually. The cops think it was someone with a sniper rifle firing from one of the tenements on Forty-Eighth Street.”
    “Yeah, and Penzler from Account Specialization nearly got himself killed last night because he’s as nosy as you are. What part of ‘don’t get involved’ do you not understand?”
    “What happened to Penzler?” Jade asked, momentarily sidetracked, and Celia made a frustrated noise.
    “I’m not telling you anything that might inspire you to do something stupid. If you get killed, I have to fill out a metric ton of paperwork, and I hate paperwork, so you need to go the hell home and stay out of Destiny Division’s way.”
    “I wasn’t trying to get in anyone’s way. I came to check out the scene before you called me.”
    “And now you’re done. Go home, Jade.”
    “I can’t just go home and let everything fall apart. If my area’s balance stays this high, you and I both know there’s no way I’m getting promoted to Account Specialization.”
    Celia sighed, her frustration audible, and Jade pressed her advantage.
    “I promise I won’t do anything else to investigate the murders. It doesn’t matter anyway; the damage is done. All I really need are the names of the people who were killed so I can start tracing their intended paths forward to repair the damage.”
    “It’s going to be tough to get that information,” Celia warned her, and Jade shrugged, although she knew her boss couldn’t see her.
    “We don’t have to get it from Destiny Division,” she pointed out. “I’ve done enough freelance work for the
Bulletin
that I know most of their reporters. I’ll go see if I can find someone there who’s willing to talk to me.”
    “Fine. Do it. I’ll talk to Destiny Division, assuming they’re willing to take my call. If they’re going to make a karmic mess, the least they can do is clean up after themselves. You stay out of trouble.”
    “Don’t I always?”
    “You’re not funny, Bailey.”
    Jade snickered, ending the call and tucking her phone back into her purse. She needed a source at the paper who wouldn’t balk at giving her sensitive information, and she knew just the guy.

    The offices of the
New York Bulletin
were only a couple of blocks from her apartment in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen. Despite the short distance, it took her over half an hour to make it there. On the way, she had to stop to repair three separate interrupted karmic paths. It was a depressing confirmation that the morning’s events had seriously skewed karmic performance in her territory.
    She did her best to shake off her frustration and entered the press bullpen with a bright smile on her face and the V-shaped neckline of her sweater dress pulled subtly downward. She knew from previous experience that if she needed to milk information out of one of the male reporters, all it would take was a smile and a little extra cleavage on display.
    Paul Burnham was the first reporter she came across, but her cleavage was unlikely to entice him. He gave her a knowing smile when he saw her appearance.
    “Is my favorite photogrpher looking for a scoop?” he murmured when she was close enough that he wouldn’t be overheard, and she laughed.
    “I don’t suppose you know anything about the shooting this morning,” she began,