Nicolle's POV:

I was cruising down the winding road back toward the packhouse, my mind a whirlwind of paranoia and half-formed plans, when my phone buzzed insistently on the passenger seat. The screen lit up with a number I knew belonged to the shady tracker I'd hired to tail Namara.

My heart raced as I swerved to the side of the road, tires crunching over gravel as I parked haphazardly under the shade of an overhanging oak tree. The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting ...