Across the warehouse, Lark sat alone on a battered couch wrapped in a blanket someone had found for her. She wasn't crying. She simply stared into space. Everything she'd ever believed had been ripped away in less than twenty-four hours. Her father, her home, her identity, and even her future. Rocco knew shock when he saw it.
Avery walked over carrying two steaming mugs and handed one to Lark. "Hot chocolate."
Lark looked surprised. "I thought it'd be coffee."
"I figured you've had enough bitterness for one day,” Avery said. A tiny smile appeared. "There it is," Avery said.
"What?"
"The first real smile.” Lark looked down into the mug.
"I don't know what happens now,” Lark admitted.
"You sleep,” Avery simply said.
"I don't think I can,” Lark insisted.
"You'll be surprised." Rocco watched from across the room. He felt someone step beside him—Dante. Neither man spoke. They simply watched her.
Dante asked quietly, "Does it ever stop?"
Rocco knew exactly what he meant. "The nightmares?" Dante nodded, and Rocco thought about his parents and the way that he had to hide beneath his bed as a little boy. He thought about every face he'd lost since joining STARR.
"Some nights, they stop,” Rocco assured.
"That's not encouraging,” Dante grumbled.
"It's honest." Dante accepted that. They stood there another minute before Rocco spoke again. "She's stronger than she knows."
"I know,” Dante said.
"But she doesn't need heroes,” Rocco insisted.
Dante looked over at him. "What does she need?"
Rocco watched Lark laugh softly at something Avery said. The sound was quiet and fragile, but real. "People who remind her she gets to choose."
Dante nodded slowly. "I can do that."
"I think you already are." Before either man could say another word, alarms erupted throughout the warehouse. Every agent in the room sprang into motion, and a technician shouted from across the operations floor.
"They found us!" Rocco and Dante looked at one another. Neither asked who because they already knew. Keller hadn'tspent millions building an empire by letting people disappear, and now that Lark Santos had slipped through his fingers once, he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.
The alarm wasn't part of the plan. Rocco knew that before the second siren sounded. This safe house had been built for STARR's worst-case scenarios. It wasn't connected to any public utilities, the vehicles arrived through concealed entrances, and the building itself was registered to a bankrupt manufacturing company that hadn't existed in over fifteen years. If someone had found them, then something had gone terribly wrong.
"Status!" he barked as he strode toward the operations floor.
A technician looked up from a bank of monitors, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "We've got two black SUVs circling the block."
"Visual?" Rocco growled.
"They've passed the building three times in six minutes,” the tech said.
Another agent walked in carrying a tablet. "And we just lost one of our traffic cameras."
Rocco frowned. "Lost?"
"Signal's gone."
