Saint ignored him. “He dropped this on purpose.”
Nora’s voice cracked. “Why?”
Havoc’s tone went cold. “Message.”
My chest tightened. It wasn’t the button itself. It was the placement.
Right outside her room.
Where she sleeps.
Where we sleep.
I walked into my room, grabbed a glove, carefully lifted the button, and dropped it into an evidence bag.
Saint narrowed his eyes. “Wolf… look at the back.”
I flipped it.
Lettering curved along the inside rim.
Worn.
Faded.
But readable.
RIDGEMONT COUNTY CORRECTIONAL FACILITY.
Nora gasped. “Is that—?”
“Yes,” I said, voice turning to steel. “It’s a prison uniform button.”
Trigger yelped, “HE’S A PRISON GUY?! LIKE—AN ESCAPED PRISON GUY?!”
“No,” Saint said quietly. “This came from a correctional officer's uniform.”
I finished the sentence for him:
“He works at a prison and has never gotten caught. My guess is he learns everything from the prisoners.”
Silence.
Long.
Heavy.
Terrifying silence.
Nora wrapped her arms around herself, pale and shaking.
I stepped in front of her instantly, cupping her face with one hand, steadying her with the other.
“Listen to me,” I said softly but firmly. “This isn’t a coincidence. He’s escalating faster. That means he’s losing control. That also means we’re close.”
She swallowed hard. “Close to what?”
“Finding him,” I said.
