“Hide what?”
I stare at the wall.
Then slowly point downward.
“The names are under the floor.”
Silence.
Russ kneels instantly beside the warped wooden boards near the altar.
One sharp pull—
and the rotten plank cracks upward.
Dust explodes into the air.
Then everybody freezes.
Because beneath the floorboards—
there are notebooks.
Stacks of them.
Dozens.
Names.
Dates.
Transfers.
Children.
And right on top—
a black file stamped with a symbol every operative in the room recognizes instantly.
SENTINEL.
Lucas stares down at it slowly.
“Jesus Christ…”
But Clay isn’t looking at the files.
He’s looking at me.
Because I’m shaking again.
Harder now.
And somewhere outside—
tires screech violently in the rain.
Mason’s head snaps toward the church doors.
