Silence thickened like smoke.
“What word?” I asked.
Nora’s eyes opened slowly, dark with memory.
“Soon.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
Sheriff Tate cursed under his breath. “He was planning this long before the library incident.”
Saint tapped rapidly at his tablet. “I can cross-check timestamps, prior surveillance feeds—”
But Nora wasn’t hearing any of it.
She trembled again, a soft shiver that hit me in the center of my chest.
I cupped her face gently. “Nora… look at me.”
She did.
And when her eyes met mine, something cracked open between us—fear, yes, but also trust. A deep, fragile trust she didn’t give easily.
“You’re safe,” I whispered. “You’re with me. You’re with us.”
Her breath hitched. “What if he comes tonight?”
Trigger answered before I could. “Then he picked the wrong damn night.”
Havoc checked the window. “Movement.”
The entire room snapped to attention.
Sheriff Tate stepped back toward the door. “Where?”
“South side,” Havoc said. “Near the fence.”
“Same place he carved the symbol,” Saint added.
Wolf: “Saint, pull it up.”
Saint’s fingers flew, and the camera feed split across the tablet.
A shadow flickered across the far-right corner.
Tall.
Still.
Watching.
My jaw set. “That’s him.”
Sheriff Tate reached for his radio. “I’ll call backup—”
Before he finished the sentence—
A loudCRASHshook the building.
