Page 19 of My Masked Shield


Font Size:

Ethan pulls up the scanned image of the note. The handwriting is tight, furious. Controlled in a way that makes my skin crawl.

“A grievance,” he says. “A very focused one.”

“Against Langford,” I say flatly.

“Against the man who didn’t listen,” Ethan agrees. “Who shut down inquiries. Who dismissed reports. Who let it get buried.”

The words settle heavily in my chest. I don’t need Ethan to say the rest.

“And against the things he loves,” he finishes.

Basia’s face flashes in my mind—her smile, her stubbornness, the way she still tries to joke when she’s scared. The way she trusts me to stand between her and the world.

My hands curl into fists.

“We suspected that this isn’t about desire,” I say slowly.

“No,” Ethan replies, voice grim. “Not sexual. Not romantic. This isn’t fixation in that sense.”

“It’s punishment,” I say. “Symbolic. He can’t reach Langford directly, so he targets what will hurt him.”

Silence stretches between us.

The hum of the computers. The faint city noise outside. My own pulse, steady and cold now instead of frantic.

“Good,” I finally say, coming to a decision.

Ethan looks at me sharply. “Good?”

I nod once, already standing. Already thinking through routes and contingencies and endgames.

“Because that means when I find him,” I say, my voice low and even, “I don’t have to wonder if he’s redeemable.”

Ethan doesn’t argue. He just watches me for a long second, then nods slowly.

“I figured you’d say that,” he admits.

“This isn’t a hurt kid lashing out,” I continue. “This is a grown man making choices.”

“Yes,” Ethan says. “And he’s escalating.”

I glance back at the screen. The dates. The pattern.

“How long until he tries something bigger?” I ask, wondering out loud.

Ethan exhales. “Hard to say. But now that he’s crossed into physical proof-of-life threats? Severed body parts?” He grimaces. “Soon.”

My jaw locks.

“Then we don’t wait,” I say.

“No,” Ethan agrees. “We don’t.”

As I head for the door, one thought cuts through everything else—sharp and absolute.

I don’t get to lose her.

Not to a man who thinks pain is justice.