MY DAUGHTER FINALLY TOLD ME WHAT HER MOTHER HAD HIDDEN—AND EVERYTHING CHANGED

The drive took eleven hours.

We made it in eight.

Marcus rode with a road atlas, avoiding anything a GPS could trace.

Lily and Tommy stayed with Ruth, Marcus's old partner.

A house with security better than most banks.

Sarah barely spoke the whole way.

Legal pad in her lap.

Sketching a map from memory.

"I lived here eight months," she finally said. "After I testified but before my new identity was finalized. I was twenty-six. Alone. Terrified someone would find the address."

"Why hide the file here?" Marcus asked.

"Because no one connected to the case ever knew about it."

We reached Hollow Creek Road after dark.

A gravel lane.

A weathered farmhouse.

Boarded windows.

No lights.

Forgotten.

Marcus drew his sidearm as we approached.

"It's been empty a long time," he said.

"It was never meant to look occupied," Sarah said.

The door was unlocked.

Inside, everything frozen in time.

Faded couch.

Mismatched chairs.

Cobwebs.

Sarah moved with certainty.

Straight to the narrow attic stairs.

"It's up there. Behind the chimney flashing. I sealed it before the marshals moved me to Chicago."

We climbed.

Dust rising in the flashlight beam.

She knelt beside the chimney.

Found the loose board.

"Marcus, give me the crowbar."

The crawlspace opened.

Her arm disappeared to the shoulder.

"It's here." Relief broke across her face. "Richard, it's still here."

Then, below us, the front door creaked.

We froze.

Marcus killed his light.

Footsteps moved across the ground floor.

Slow.

Deliberate.

"Sarah Vance." A man's voice. Calm. Pleasant. "I know you're up there. Did you really think a package on your porch was a warning? It was meant to lead you here."

My blood went cold.

"My name is Elias Marsh. I worked for Victor for eleven years. Long before you infiltrated his organization. I was part of something he kept separate from everything you exposed. We call it the Continuity. And you've been carrying a file with all our names inside it for six years."

Marcus raised his weapon toward the stairwell.

"I don't want to hurt anyone tonight," Elias called. "Hand over the file, and your family disappears from our concerns entirely. Refuse, and Pier 42 will feel like a warning."

Sarah's eyes met mine in the dark.

"Marcus," she whispered. "The window. Get Richard out. I'll handle Elias."

"Absolutely not."

A shot rang out.

Splintered the banister.