“That’s not good enough.”
“It’s what we have right now.”
I stop right in front of him.
“Then fix it.”
A second of silence.
Then—
“Working on it.”
Jenna cuts in before it goes further.
“This wasn’t random,” she says, sharp, focused. “They were after something.”
“They were after me,” I snap.
Because that’s the only thing that makes sense.
Her eyes narrow.
“Or someone connected to you.”
That lands.
Because it fits too fucking well.
I don’t say it yet.
Not out loud.
Behind her, Izzy shifts again, letting out a low breath as the medic tightens the wrap.
Jenna glances back, softer this time. “Stay still.”
“I said I’m fine,” he mutters.
He’s not.
But that’s not the problem right now.
“Whoever they are,” I say, pulling it back, “they had eyes on us. That means one of two things—either they’ve been watching for a while…”
I pause.
“…or someone talked.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Cesario looks up. “You think we’ve got a rat?”
“I think this didn’t happen by accident,” I say, colder now. “Not with that kind of timing. Not with that kind of access.”
Jenna crosses her arms, thinking fast.
