Ranger and Simmy.
Rupert and Ben.
Cold slid through Andi’s chest as understanding sharpened inside her.
Had the man left a surprise for them also? Was Fake Pam with them? He was clearly working with someone.
Duke shifted closer, his shoulder brushing Andi’s arm. His presence felt like an anchor. Like a promise.
He said nothing. He didn’t need to.
She knew what he was thinking.
Do not move blind.
Do not trade one life for another.
The light pressed harder, as if the man sensed the change in her. “You’re smart. You know this isn’t the moment for heroics.”
Andi swallowed.
The desert stretched behind the light, endless and empty. Ahead—unknown. Behind—people she loved.
She lowered her arm an inch and let the glare burn. “What do you want?”
Silence answered.
And in that silence, Andi made her choice—knowing whatever she did next would cost her something she couldn’t get back.
The light held.
White. Solid. Close enough that Duke felt its heat along his cheek, felt it flatten distance and depth into nothing.
He couldn’t see the man, couldn’t read posture or hands. He could only hear him.
That bothered Duke more than the glare.
The voice scraped at something familiar. The way the man clipped consonants. The way he held pauses, measured and deliberate, like he expected people to wait for him.
Duke searched his memory for a match, but he came up empty.
Who was this guy?
Andi shifted beside him.
Duke felt it before he saw it—the subtle turn of her body, her weight shifting back toward the direction they’d come from.
The van.
“No,” Duke said under his breath.
“I wouldn’t,” the man warned. “I said I have a gun.”
Andi froze.
Duke adjusted his stance without moving his feet, angling his body between Andi and the beam as much as the glare allowed.
“I know what happened to your friend,” Andi said. “To Crystal. I know she went missing and no one looked for her. That must have been hard. It was definitely unfair.”
