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That should bother me. It’s another sign of how much today’s events have thrown me off-kilter. But Chloe is standing there, no doubt responsible for the noise that caught my attention, and a soft, unfamiliar feeling comes over me, muting the reaction I would normally have to someone intruding on my space uninvited this way.
But Chloe isn’t just “someone,” she’s Riley’s family. Her little sister. And if Riley belongs here, then Chloe does too.
But there’s a lost, defeated look in Chloe’s eyes that I don’t like. It awakens memories of my own little sister, along with the feelings of fierce protectiveness I had when faced with the monster I failed to save Emma from.
Riley didn’t fail, though. Riley was able to saveherlittle sister.
And until we get Riley back, someone else needs to look after Chloe.
“Sorry,” she says, the nervous hesitation in her voice making me suspect that she finds my silent regard unnerving. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just…” She trails off, her shoulders slumping. “I’ll leave.”
Maddoc and Dante are undoubtedly as focused as I am on getting Riley back, so Chloe has most likely been left to her own devices ever since we got back to the house. If she’s anything like her sister—which it’s clear from the way she survived out on the streets that she is—she’ll want to help get Riley back too.
She starts to turn away, and I blink, realizing I haven’t done that since discovering her in my doorway.
“No.”
She turns back to face me, her eyes widening. “No?”
“Come in.”
The words come out stilted, but surprisingly, I mean them. It feels weird to allow another person in my room—no, toinvitesomeone in—but in a completely illogical way, Chloe’s presence also soothes some of that feeling of wrongness inside me from not having Riley here.
“Um, Maddoc said you had a way to track Austin McKenna’s car?” she says, approaching my desk hesitantly. “Is that what you’re working on?”
I pull out the second chair that I brought into my room when Riley was here helping me search the city for Chloe. The synchronicity gives me an uncomfortable pang in my chest.
“Sit,” I tell Chloe.
She does it, and I surprise myself again by how much it helps me quiet and focus my mind—exactly what I was reaching for earlier and failed to accomplish on my own—when I start to explain what I’m doing.
“You can see through the traffic cameras?” she asks, leaning forward with a look of fascination on her face.
“I can access them,” I say, because “seeing through them” is both imprecise and incorrect. “Depending on the model, some only take still photographs when their sensors are activated, while others live stream but don’t record." I switch views and bring up an image of the intersection at Broad and Leavenworth, using my cursor to circle the camera prominently mounted next to the traffic lights. “Other locations use dummy cameras to deter drivers.”
“You mean, that one does nothing?”
I grimace, annoyed because yes, it does nothing. “Correct. But as you can see, I’m still able to monitor that particular location by accessing another camera. In this case, it’s part of the security system for the pawn shop on the corner of Broad.”
Chloe’s breath hitches, her eyes turning glassy as she covers her mouth over a little sob.
I frown. “What is it?”
She smiles at me, dashing the wetness from her eyes. “So youwillbe able to find her. When Austin drove off with her I thought... I thought…”
“We will find her,” I confirm quickly before she can become even more emotional. It makes me uncomfortable, but at the same time, I’m also overcome with a strange feeling of satisfaction over having changed her previous look of despair to this more hopeful one.
I turn back to the monitors and walk her through the details of the various surveillance systems I’ve tapped into around the city, explaining the logic I’ve applied in searching for traces of McKenna’s route. Talking through it gives me a clearer perspective, and Chloe murmurs quiet, insightful questions as I redefine the most probable search area and explain some of the rivalry between the Reapers and West Point and the resources we’ll use to get Riley back.
“We’ll also tap our allies for help—” I cut myself off abruptly when Chloe makes a small, pained sound. “What?” I ask sharply, wondering if she has information that I don’t about the other gangs we’ve forged relationships with. It’s possible she overheard something while West Point held her captive, but it’s equally likely that she saw or heard something while she was hiding out on the streets. I narrow my eyes as dozens of unsavory possibilities for betrayal flip rapidly through my head. “Tell me.”
“Sorry,” Chloe says, shaking her head. “It’s just... I can’t believe Riley gave herself up like that.”
I blink, recalibrating my thought process. Chloe wasn’t having a reaction to the information I provided. She was having an… anemotionalreaction.
Before I can determine if it requires me to comfort her, she huffs out a watery laugh.
“What am I saying? OfcourseI can believe it,” she says. “Riley would do anything to protect the people she loves.”
