The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Lauren felt the blood drain from her face. "What?"

"My guy pulled photos," Nate said quietly. "Michelle Matthews at sixteen. Before she had to leave New York. Before her father died. Lauren, you could be sisters. Same bone structure, same coloring, same... well, everything. The resemblance is uncanny."

"Jesus Christ," Wyatt breathed, his arm tightening around Lauren's waist.

"I'm sending the photo with everything else," Nate continued. "But ...