The safehouse was quiet, but every sound felt amplified,the creak of floorboards, the hum of old wiring, even the distant roll of thunder outside. Justina moved through the room, each step deliberate, every sense sharpened. The files and devices Ezra had recovered from the warehouse were spread across the table like pieces of a puzzle she was not sure she was ready to complete.

Carson followed closely behind, his hand brushing her back lightly, not as a restraint but as a tether. He had been ...