“Back room,” I tell Silas, and I motion to Rhett and Rafe. “You too.”
We move into the small office off the main hall—the space we use for secure calls and sensitive intel. Silas closes the door behind us, and the warmth of the lodge disappears like it was never there.
Silas doesn’t waste time. “You asked for everything on Mark Renshaw,” he says. “I dug. Deeper than I like.”
My jaw tightens. “What’d you find?”
Silas exhales, slowly. “He’s dirty.”
Rhett says nothing, just shifts his weight like he’s ready to move.
Silas continues, “Renshaw’s connected to a trafficking ring. Not rumor. Not maybe. Paper trail. Shell charities. Cash movements. Two property rentals under a cousin’s name that match known transit patterns.”
My stomach turns.
Rafe mutters, “Jesus.”
Silas nods once. “It gets worse.”
I already know it will.
Silas holds my gaze. “We think the baby’s father—Ford—might be using a different name. Devon. Damon. Whatever he’s calling himself, he’s tied to private ops contracting. And we think he’s… grooming women. Getting them pregnant. Then the babies disappear.”
For a second, the room goes very still.
My ears ring.
My mind flashes Kayley’s face—tired, brave, broken open by grief. Sophie’s fear in Kayley’s voice last night. The text:You should have given him to us.
I feel sick.
“No,” I say, voice low. “You’re saying?—”
Silas’s expression is grim. “I’m saying there’s a pattern. Girls go missing, or they show up pregnant and suddenly they’reisolated. The kids vanish. Paperwork gets altered. Reports get ‘lost.’ And Renshaw’s name shows up around the edges every time.”
I clench my fists so hard my knuckles ache.
Rafe’s face is stone. Rhett’s eyes are cold. The air in this room feels like it could cut skin.
Silas adds, “We don’t have the whole chain yet. But we have enough to know this isn’t a custody dispute. This isn’t a scared ex-boyfriend. This is organized.”
My stomach rolls again.
A baby being sold isn’t a concept my brain wants to hold. It doesn’t fit with the world I try to believe in. But I’ve seen war. I’ve seen what humans do when they think they can get away with it.
And we built Haven 7 because we couldn’t keep watching innocent people get swallowed whole.
“Not Aidan,” I say, and it comes out like a vow. Like a threat.
Rhett’s voice is quiet. “Never Aidan.”
Rafe nods. “We end this.”
Silas watches me carefully. “You’re taking this personal.”
My jaw flexes. “Itispersonal.”
He studies me for a beat, then his mouth quirks slightly, like he’s about to say something I won’t like.
