“What is it?” he asks, already reaching for the card.
I hand it to him. I don’t trust my voice.
His eyes scan the words once. Twice.
Then his jaw tightens so hard I can hear his teeth grind.
“Teddy,” he says quietly into his comms. “Lock the lobby down. No one in, no one out.”
Morgan’s face drains of color. “Basia…”
I take her hand. “Hey. It’s okay. We’re okay.”
Caleb sets the card down, then lifts the vase, inspecting the stems, the water. His movements are controlled, precise—but there’s something coiled underneath, something furious.
“This wasn’t meant to hurt you,” he says grimly. “It was meant to be seen.”
“To scare us,” Morgan says.
“No,” Caleb replies. His gaze flicks to me, dark and intent. “To remind her he’s watching.”
The doctor knocks and steps in, mid-smile—then freezes at the sight of Caleb, Teddy’s voice murmuring urgently through his earpiece, and Morgan clutching my hand like a lifeline.
“I… should come back,” the doctor says slowly.
Caleb nods. “Please.”
As the door closes again, I stare at the flowers, their petals perfect and innocent and wrong.
“He knows where we are,” I whisper.
Caleb’s eyes soften—just a fraction—as he looks at me.
“I know,” he says. “And now I know he was here.”
The room feels smaller. Tighter.
And for the first time since last night, I don’t feel reckless or blissed out or brave.
I feel hunted.
17
CALEB
It doesn’t take long for us to gather at Ethan’s place. The lights are low, the screens bright with live feeds, timelines, maps layered with red pins and movement arcs.
Ethan works, barefoot in gym shorts and a hoodie, Red Bull at hand, eyes sharp. Killian leans against the counter, arms folded. Damien sits at the table, elbows braced, jaw tight.
Having to call him and tell him how Basia’s stalker sent flowers with a note to his pregnant woman’s prenatal appointment? Not something I’d write down in my diary with hearts and stars decorating the page, that’s for sure. Furious is an understatement when it comes to describing his reaction.
“Here’s what we know,” I say. “He’s not random. He’s not chaotic. He’s controlled, patient, and deliberate. These deliveries say something.”
“Proof of access,” Damien says quietly.
“Exactly,” I reply with a low growl. “He wants us to know he can reach Basia. Anywhere.”
I had Teddy call in Wheeler, and they’re both with Basia and the girls at Killian’s place. I keep having to remind myself they’re safe. Thatshe’ssafe.
