Naomi crosses her arms tight around her chest. “And you think they’ll just show up to some random TikTok contest?”
Brooke’s voice softens. “They’re kids. They’re online. They’re probably watching you already. We just need a way in.”
Naomi stares at her, her jaw set. After a long pause, she mutters, “Wow, I’m going to commit a felony with three people I met at a hotel. Great.”
Brooke smiles, and it is the first time I have seen her relax in days. “Thank you, seriously.”
I'm still standing at the top of the stairs. Quietly watching, trying to listen and process. Beau catches my eye and motions for me to follow him toward the office. I drag my feet behind him. Once we are in the office, Beau turns around and leans against the desk, his arms crossed.
Beau looks me dead in the eye. “I’m not apologizing for taking her.”
I shake my head. “Didn’t think you would.”
“She did what you couldn’t do. What you weren’t ready to do.”
My jaw shifts. “I know.”
“She did it for you,” Beau adds. “For Samantha. For every fucked-up thing Grant ever did to both of you.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”
“She’s not just surviving, Seth. She’s doing what we do. What you taught her to do.”
I stay silent. I let it settle in. I let it burn a little.
Beau doesn’t stop.
“I know what it’s like to lose your parents. I know how grief fucks you up. It makes you want to shut down. But you can’t afford to shut down right now.”
“I’m not shutting down.”
“You’re spiraling.”
“I’m trying not to fucking kill everything in my way.”
“Well, we don’t have time for you to fall apart. The kids need us. Brooke needs you. You can break later. Right now, we’ve got a mission.”
I stare at him, my pulse pounding.
He claps me once on the shoulder. “Let’s go get your siblings. Then we kill Grant. Then you can lose your shit, curl up in a ball, whatever the hell you need. But not now.”
I nod slowly. Not because I’m okay.
But because he’s right.
“Let’s go get them.”
It's just after six a.m. when we hit the road. Southbound this time, out of Washington and deep into Oregon. The van hums steady beneath us, every mile dragging us closer to a place I wasn’t sure I was ready for. It's a six-and-a-half-hour drive with no music and no distractions. Just the muted rumble of tires on asphalt and the occasional whisper of wind slipping in through the window.
No one really talks. Brooke sits beside me with her knees tucked up, scrolling through the latest news on her phone. Travis drives while Naomi keeps her headphones in, probably rehearsing whatever the hell she is going to say once we get there.
And me, I stare out the window. I watch the trees blur. I replay Samantha’s voice in my head. The moment she looked into the camera, her lips trembling, her eyes locked on mine before the screen went black. I haven’t spoken about it. I just keep seeing it. Over and over, like the footage carved itself into my brain.
I clench my jaw and force my thoughts back to the plan.
We are going straight to Jefferson High School. Travis says Elise and Ryan are enrolled under their foster placement. It is a public high school with weak security, so we have a decent shot if we move fast.
By the time we reach the outskirts of the city, it is just after noon. We pull into a strip mall parking lot across the street from the school and switchvehicles, trading the van for a nondescript SUV Beau wired and stashed. It is less obvious and easier to ditch if things go sideways.
