“She’s not disappearing, though,” Phone Guy says after a beat. “There’s a reward. Big one. State-level. That senator’s already got the FBI involved. We will be chasing after her until we catch her.”
“Nah, man,” Coffee Guy says. “There’s no way she’s still in the country. I bet she somehow found out we were coming and left for Mexico or something.”
“She left everything, though,” Phone Guy says. “Photos, clothes, toys. Why not hide it?”
“I don’t know,” Coffee Guy says. “Felt like showing off, maybe.”
Another silence stretches between them.
Then:
“You go down into that basement yet?”
Phone Guy shakes his head quickly. “No. But I heard. That… thing with the teeth in the jars?” His voice falters. “Nah. I’m not going down there.”
Coffee Guy takes another sip. “Good. Don’t.”
Huh.
So.
The police know the full extent of Laura’s crimes, and they’ve got orders from above to find her, no matter what. They’re not going to stop.
Good news?
They haven’t connected the dots to the car yet.
Bad news?
It’s only a matter of time.
Which means getting to that hidden wreck before they do is critical. Almost as critical as finishing Death’s mission and destroying the wraith herself.
Because here’s the thing: I can’t do anything if I end up locked in a holding cell.
As much as I want to give closure to the families—the ones who lost their children to a monster who handed out poisoned candy with a smile—I can’t. Not yet.
Her body’s already decomposing.
The truth can wait.
Talon and Nathaniel should be retrieving what’s left of her right now. Once they have what they need… maybe we drop it somewhere public.
Somewhere it can be found.
Let the people have her back.
But for now, I keep moving.
The side door is shut, but that means nothing to someone who walks halfway in death. Or, at least, it shouldn’t. I press my palm against the wood and focus. My fingers tingle. For a moment, the door holds, like it’s too dense for me to get through. But then I slip through.
“Still got it,” I murmur, glancing down at my hands. I flex them slowly into fists, then lift my chin and take in the hallway ahead.
“Now to grab the stupid object before I run out of juice completely.”
The side hall is narrow. I remember Cassian dragging Laura Collins through here the last time we were in this house. Back then, the details were a blur. Now, everything’s sharp.
Faded floral wallpaper. Dozens of cat-themed picture frames lining the walls. The faint scent of vanilla clinging to the air.White carpet, worn thin, with long freckles of age and foot traffic running its length.
