Saint hasn’t moved from the child’s side.
Not once.
Not even for a second.
Good.
He’s exactly the kind of man I hoped he was.
Trigger walks over and stops beside me, folding his arms as he scans the street.
“If she can’t get to them,” he says quietly, “she’ll hit the town.”
“Yes.”
There’s no doubt in my mind.
“She’ll want witnesses. Fear spreads faster when people see it.”
Trigger exhales slowly. “And she won’t care who she hurts to send the message.”
My phone buzzes.
Once.
Sharp.
Deliberate.
A secure number.
I don’t need to look.
I already know who it is.
I let it buzz in my hand for a second before glancing down.
The screen lights up.
A photo.
Fire.
Bright orange flames tearing through the front of a small shop.
I recognize it instantly.
Main Street.
One of the oldest buildings in town.
Smoke curls into the night sky like a signal flare.
A message appears beneath the photo.
You cannot hide from me.
For a moment I close my eyes.
