Myla flinched at the sharpness in his tone but didn’t say anything. Her hands twisted in her lap, knuckles white.

Beck crouched beside her again. His voice was quieter than the others, but no less tense. “You didn’t recognize him? Not even his voice?”

She shook her head slowly. “I saw his face but didn't recognize him. The weird thing is he kept calling me Rosie. Like he thought I was someone else.”

The room went still.

Hayden’s eyes cut to hers. “Rosie?”

Myla nodded. “I ...