Harlan stands near the monitors with his arms crossed, his face carved into hard focus. Rhett is posted near the door, watching the hall like he expects someone to walk through it. Boyd is quiet as stone at the far end of the table, hands clasped, shoulders tense. Wyatt sits with his laptop open, fingers still, like even he knows this moment doesn’t belong to typing.
Thorne sits with one hand on his pistol, the other rubbing the back of his neck.
Chase paces, restlessness barely leashed.
Eli is here too, calmer than the rest of us, but his eyes are sharp—medic calm, not naive calm.
Harper sits with Poppi against her shoulder, swaying slightly, soothing her with slow movements. Poppi’s little fist grips Harper’s sweater like it’s an anchor. Rafe standing over them like he’d rather die than ever lose them.
And Kayley?—
Kayley sits beside Harper, Aidan tucked against her chest, her face pale and determined in that way I recognize from people who’ve been forced to become brave.
She’s trying not to shake.
She’s failing.
And it guts me.
I stand at the head of the table beside Silas, my hands braced on the cold metal edge, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. Not for the men. They’ve seen worse than fear.
For her.
Silas clears his throat. “All right. We’re past the point of quiet digging.”
Kayley’s eyes flick to him, then to me.
I hold her gaze for a beat—a silent promise—and then nod at Silas to continue.
He gestures toward the main screen. “We’ve confirmed Hanover Falls Deputy Mark Renshaw is tied to a trafficking ring operatingthrough multiple counties. They move women. They move kids. They launder the paperwork. They bury reports.”
Kayley’s arms tighten around Aidan.
Her knuckles go white.
I want to cross the room, take the baby from her, pull her into my chest, and shut the door on this whole conversation.
But she asked for the truth.
So she gets it.
Silas continues, “We also have confirmation that Damon Ford—likely working under the alias Devon in some circles—is connected to the same network. Private ops contracting. Off-the-books work. Enough resources to stay slippery.”
The room goes colder.
Kayley’s mouth parts slightly. Her gaze drops to Aidan like she’s trying to shield him from words he can’t understand.
I hate that those words exist at all.
Wyatt finally speaks, voice low. “We pulled location pings from three devices that keep hovering within a thirty-mile radius. Burner phones. They’re not staying in one place long, which means they’re working a perimeter. Watching routes.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens. “They know where we are.”
Silas nods. “They know Haven 7 exists. They may not know the layout, but they know you’re protecting the baby.”
Kayley’s head snaps up. “How?”
Silas’s expression is grim. “Because they think theydeservehim.”
