Grace's POV

Maya and I split a copy of Helena's diary, each taking half as we raced toward the police station. We looked for anything that would help Hunter, even an offhanded comment that Helena felt she was being followed would help.

Max drove just short of reckless, but I could see the tension in his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. The silence in the car was heavy, broken only by the rustle of pages as I frantically skimmed through the entries.

"I still can't believe they ...