Chapter 11 —

The storage facility on the edge of town felt wrong in all the right ways — anonymous, wind-beaten, and dull enough to hide a thousand secrets. Its fluorescent lights hummed like a nervous insect. Nicole stood beneath them with Anders at her side, a small army of essentials in a black leather holdall. Camille hovered a thoughtful step back, her posture both protective and uncertain. The air carried the faint smell of dust and machine oil and the kind of privacy that had ...