It was obvious that he wasn’t going anywhere until they discussed her brother. She considered postponing the inevitable, but she quickly decided it was best for everyone involved to lay out the facts. He would no doubt pass along word to the other team members.
“I didn't expect anything from the search, Theo. And neither did you, so let’s just move on.” Brook set her mug down with deliberate care when he didn’t seem inclined to follow her directive. “The Bureau was just going through the motions. They had to close the case eventually. I’m fine. Really.”
A heavy silence settled between them. Brook could almost conceive his unspoken inquiries hovering in the air.
Was Jacob dead?
Had her brother succumbed to his injuries?
Or had he managed to survive and heal?
Had he dragged himself to some secluded shelter, stitched his own wounds shut with some old fishing line, and then rebuilt his strength day by day in some remote cabin?
“Are you considering sending a private team to Alaska then?”
“No.” Brook's response was immediate and firm. She met his gaze without flinching. “Jacob will eventually come to me.”
“That's no way to live, Brook.”
“It's exactly how I've spent most of my life.” Brook mulled over her next words carefully. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, and my last conversation with him will spur another progression. He’ll evolve, and Jacob will no longer focus on those in my life. He wants me now.”
The truth of that statement hung between them.
She'd become exactly what Jacob loathed most. She was now a person connected to others, someone whose life was intertwined with the lives of people who mattered to her, and a woman who believed her existence was perfect. While the latter wasn’t accurate, Jacob’s opinion was all that mattered.
“In the meantime, we have a potential investigation ahead of us.” Brook decided it was time to shift the focus away from her brother. He took up too much space in her mind as it was. “And you need to pick out an engagement ring.”
“Damn it, Brook,” Theo exclaimed as he tilted his head back in frustration. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before finally righting himself to meet her gaze. “How did you know I was considering proposing to Mia?”
“Seriously?” Brook shook her head in disappointment. “You've been researching upscale restaurants, serene hiking spots, and tropical vacation destinations for the past two weeks. Not to mention that you were looking at your bank account statements the other day. I don’t need to be a profiler to know a thing or two about the human psyche.”
“Fine,” Theo conceded with a reluctant grin. “I was going to ask you about it anyway. I was hoping you might come with me this weekend to help pick one out. Mia deserves something perfect, and I'm out of my depth.”
“You are full of shit,” Brook muttered, though the request still spread warmth throughout her chest. She cleared her throat at the unexpected swell of emotion that threatened to constrict her voice. “I would love to help you pick out Mia's ring.”
“I’ll spring for lunch.”
Brook nodded her agreement, though Theo didn’t notice the gesture as he left her office. Her attention finally drifted back to the Polaroid on her desk. There was a danger to having one’s picture taken. There was no loyalty, no mercy. Theresulting image revealed the unguarded moments, the cracks in composure, the truths people might not want laid bare.
In Brook’s experience, photographs didn’t just preserve memories. They exposed them. And sometimes, what they revealed was exactly what someone else wanted to keep hidden.
4
Theo Neville
January 2026
Tuesday – 9:41 am
The back office opposite the kitchen hummed with air that was distinctly Bobby ‘Bit’ Nowacki. Technology wasn’t just his profession. It was his oxygen.
A massive modular desk dominated the center of the room, barely visible under the assortment of keyboards, screens, and blinking LEDs. Even a soldering iron lay casually next to a half-assembled motherboard, a microcosm of Bit’s world where wires ruled and silicon was king.
He was playing a little air-drum solo while observing a screen full of code take on a life of its own. His faded Star Wars t-shirt hung loosely on his thin frame, wrinkled from probably sitting in the dryer too long. His trademark gray knitted beanie covered most of his blonde hair, though a few greasy strands escaped at the nape of his neck.
The kid looked like he belonged in a basement hacker collective, not a high-end investigation firm. Yet his technical brilliance had repeatedly proven invaluable.
“Well?”
