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“Because Killian dies. Nyssa starts receiving messages. Someone walked through Blackthorn without appearing on a single fucking camera. Lily’s ribbon gets cut in half. Her knife disappears.” I glanced toward the sitting room. “Now Bethany vanishes and walks back looking like someone hollowed her out without leaving a mark.”
London said nothing.
“Tell me that’s coincidence.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then don’t waste my fucking time.”
“I’m not.” His voice hardened. “I’m asking whether you know who’s doing this, or whether you’ve given one monster a fucking name because you need somewhere to point the gun.”
That stopped me.
London stepped closer.
“Killian’s dead. Bethany can’t tell us where she’s been. Whoever entered your house left nothing behind. You have a pattern.”
“I have him.”
“Can you prove it?”
Silence.
Rage moved hot beneath my skin. “No.”
London gave one slow nod. “Then don’t mistake knowing the man for knowing the game.”
My jaw tightened. “This isn’t a game.”
“To you?”
He looked back at me.
“No.”
A pause from London. “To him?”
Fuck.
Footsteps approached. Fast. Carven entered first. Colt behind him holding out a phone. The other just looked pissed.
Finally.
Something.
“What?”
Carven handed me the phone. “Traffic camera.”
Grainy footage filled the screen.
Timestamp.
17:41.
Road.
Nothing.
