Ten miles outside town.
Private land now.
Owned by a company that had bought half the county in the last two years through shell LLCs.
Ethan lifted something toward the camera.
His watch.
The same watch from the duffel.
“If Maddox has this, it means he found one cache but not the other.”
Then his face changed.
Not fear now.
Grief.
“Maybug, I’m sorry. I tried to come home. I swear to God I tried.”
A voice shouted behind him.
Ethan looked toward it.
Rook barked off-screen.
Ethan turned back.
“One more thing. Mom can’t know until you have proof. It’ll kill her twice.”
He gave a broken laugh.
“Guess you don’t have to worry about that now, huh?”
I covered my mouth with one hand.
Too late.
Too cruel.
Too him.
Ethan leaned close enough that his face filled the screen.
“The name you need is not Maddox. Maddox is just the leash.”
The video glitched.
His next words came through distorted.
“The man holding it is—”
The clinic lights went out.
Everything died at once.
The monitor.
The lobby lamps.
The hum of the refrigerator.
Kelly screamed.
Rook exploded into motion, slamming into me, driving me backward just as the front window shattered.
Glass sprayed across the lobby like ice.
A red laser dot danced over the wall where my head had been half a second earlier.
Pike shouted, “DOWN!”
Dr. Price hit the floor.
Kelly crawled behind the counter.
Rook stood over me, teeth bared, body shaking with fury.
Outside, in the dark parking lot, an engine idled.
Not a patrol car.
Not Maddox’s truck.
Something heavier.
Something waiting.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
I pulled it out with shaking fingers.
Unknown number.
One text message.
No greeting.
No threat.
Just a photo.
It showed my brother alive.
Older.
Thinner.
Bruised.
Sitting in a metal chair under a single white light.
Today’s newspaper was taped to his chest.
