"The envelope," I say. "Patrick Holt. How long have you had this?"
"Long enough." His voice is even, unbothered. "I wanted you to find your feet first. You and Olivia, your head needed to be right before I put this in front of you."
"And now?"
"Is your head right?"
I think about her sitting in the hospital, holding her dad's hand and pretending she's not terrified. I think about the notes in her drawer, each one worse than the last. I think about a seventeen year old girl backed into a corner with no way out, forced to choose between the person she loved and the person who raised her.
I think about the men who put her there.
"Yeah," I say. "My head's right."
"Good." A pause. "There's more in the file than what Miles found. When you're ready for it, come to the office."
"I'll be there tomorrow."
"One more thing." Cain's voice drops slightly; that’s the shift he makes when something matters more than he wants to let on. "Leo isn't just sending notes, Hayden. My guys flagged something last night. He's been making calls. To Patrick. About Olivia."
"What kind of calls?"
"He's not just trying to scare her." Another pause. "He knows she's with you now and it sounds like his father isn't happy about it."
The cold that moves through me has nothing to do with the temperature outside.
"They went after her once because she couldn't fight back," I say, my voice low. "She doesn't have that problem anymore."
"No," Cain agrees. "She doesn't."
"I want everything you have on both of them. Every call, every connection, every name in that network Miles found."
"It'll get it ready."
I end the call and look back up at the third floor window.
The light is still on.
I can wait. Patience is the weapon nobody sees coming, and I’ve been waiting for this longer than Leo Holt has any idea.
I get back to the house just after midnight.
The lights are off downstairs. Everyone's in bed. I move through the kitchen quietly, grab a glass of water, and stand at the window looking out at the garden for a minute.
The treehouse is just a shape in the dark.
I used to hate looking at it. The memories were too sharp, too loaded with everything I'd lost. But standing here now, I think about her face tonight at dinner. The way she laughed at the table. The way she helped my mum clear up without being asked, just like she belonged here, because she does.
She always did.
My phone buzzes once.
Miles
Hit and run driver. Got a name. You're not going to like it.
I stare at the message.
Hayden
