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Elizabeth clutched my arm.

“He followed you.”

Mace raised his weapon and angled his body between us and the darkness.

“Stay behind the support.”

I helped Elizabeth move deeper into the narrow space.

This time, I didn’t argue with Mace.

Not because I couldn’t protect myself.

Because Elizabeth could barely stand, and keeping her alive mattered more than proving anything.

The footsteps stopped.

Water rushed around our boots.

“Mills!” I called.

My voice traveled through the concrete tunnel.

“You’re surrounded.”

A quiet laugh answered.

Robert stepped into the edge of my flashlight beam.

My captain.

The man who had approved my investigations.

The man who had stood behind me at crime scenes and told grieving families I would find whoever had taken their daughters.

His gray hair was soaked from the rain.

Water ran down his face.

A pistol rested steadily in his hand.

He looked exactly as he always had.

Calm.

Controlled.

Respectable.

Except now I could finally see the man beneath the badge.

“You always were persistent,” he said.

Mace’s weapon never wavered.

“Drop the gun.”

Robert barely looked at him.