“Rory.”
The name doesn’t make sense.
Not at first.
It is too small.
Too ordinary.
Too close to Amelia’s life before me.
Rory.
The sanctuary.
The man she trusted.
The man Olivia knew.
The man who could get near them without making anyone reach for a gun.
The man no one was looking at.
“No,” I say.
But even as the word leaves my mouth, pieces begin to move.
The fire.
The timing.
Pulling my daughter from school without telling us.
My blood turns cold.
Stefano’s eyes fill with apology.
“I saw him,” he whispers. “He shot me. He took them.”
I let go of my brother’s hand gently.
Carefully.
Because there is too much violence moving through me now, and none of it belongs in this room.
“Rory Holsinger?” Foster asks. “The man who worked for Mia?”
I turn slowly.
“Find him,” I say. “Address. Phone. Vehicles. Bank accounts. Family. Any property connected to him. Any old barns. Any empty houses. Any place he could take them.”
Foster nods, backing toward the door with his phone already in his hand.
I look back at Stefano.
His eyes are barely open.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
