Through a third party.
On a piece of land just outside town.
Near the road that leads toward the cabin.
I stop breathing for a second.
“She knows where you are,” I whisper.
And for the first time since I turned on her…
I’m afraid we’re still behind.
44
Saint
Marco’s words don’t leave room for denial.
She’s building a chokehold.
I stand in the cabin doorway with my phone still in my hand.
Inside, Laney sits on the couch with the baby asleep against her chest.
She’s singing softly.
A quiet little tune I’ve never heard before.
The baby’s tiny fingers curl against the fabric of Laney’s shirt.
For one second, I consider lying.
Pretending everything is fine.
Pretending the storm hasn’t already arrived.
I don’t.
“She’s buying land near here,” I say.
Laney’s voice stops mid-song.
Marco’s voice remains calm in my ear.
“Not next door. Not obvious. But close enough to watch the roads. Utilities. Access points.”
I close my eyes briefly.
“How close?”
“Too close.”
The call ends.
I immediately key my comm.
“Wolf. Trigger. Havoc. We’re tightening everything.”
