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The air whooshes from my lungs as I stare into the eyes of the man who killed my brother.
Whose boat had been attacked on the North Sea.
Who everyone thought was dead.
But he’s not.
How could he be when Hayes Barlow is currently standing in my brother’s office, looking very much alive?
“Good morning, Captain Lawson,” he says with a sly smile, tossing the file onto the desk. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
* * *
