“The night before she left.” Hannah’s voice broke on the words. “She called someone on the phone. She said… she said she was scared. Then she told me she’d be back in a week.” Herchin quivered. “But she didn’t take her big suitcase. Only a small one. Like she didn’t want him to know she was going.”
My pulse hammered.
“She left in the morning,” Hannah continued, voice shaking again. “He drove her to the airport. And when he came back… he was different.”
“How?” Bones asked quietly.
“He was… angry. Cold. Like he blamed me.” Hannah swallowed. “He told me never to ask about her again. Never. And then the men started coming. More and more.”
My mouth went dry.
Hannah hesitated, then whispered so faintly I almost missed it, “And one night… I heard them sayshewas a message.”
I flinched.
Hannah bowed her head. “A message to him. I don’t know for what, except that it must be bad. I only know she is gone.”
My hand tightened around hers, gently but firmly. “You did everything you could. You survived. You kept your family safe. You’re not responsible for what he did.”
She sobbed once, a small, broken sound.
Bones exhaled—a slow, controlled release. Not anger at her. Anger at the situation. At Sinclair. At Ignacio. At everyone who had touched this.
He crouched then—not close enough to scare her, but enough to get to her level. His voice softened by degree.
“Hannah, listen to me.”
She stilled.
“You’re going to be safe. We’re going to make sure of that. But I need one more thing from you.”
“A-anything,” she whispered.
“I am going to leave you with a phone number, I want you to memorize it but not put it in your phone. We’re going to untie you and let you go home, but you need to walk out to your carand go, just like you would any other day. Don’t look back, don’t call anyone else, just go look after your family.”
“Okay.” Disbelief strung between both syllables.
“If you think of something later—anything at all—you call that number and you leave us a message. Even if it feels small. Even if it feels unimportant.” He let a beat pass. “Sometimes the small things matter most.”
She nodded, tears dripping off her cheeks. “I will. I will try.”
“And Hannah?” Bones continued.
“Yes?”
“If anything happens and you need help, you call that number too.”
Shock seemed to still her tears. “But I am…”
“A good person.” His tone brooked no argument. There was no way not to believe him. “If you need help, you call. If you remember something, you call. Can you do that?”
“Si. Thank you.”
I squeezed her hands again, my throat thick. “You did good,” I murmured. “Really good.”
Behind me, Voodoo quietly added, “Damn good.”
Alphabet made a soft sound of agreement.
