three twelve, Yates sat beside me in the hallway.
“We won’t know for at least twelve hours.”
I stared at the floor.
“Where’s Elena?”
“Safe.”
“Bring her here.”
She returned before dawn.
She looked worse than when I first met her.
“Prescott knows,” she said.
“So do I.”
Her face changed.
“You know about Valez?”
“Enough.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t.”
“What am I missing?”
Elena took Genevieve’s necklace from her neck.
She twisted the blue stone.
It opened.
Inside was a microscopic memory card.
My heart stopped.
“Genevieve told me never to open it unless you discovered her father was alive.”
“He’s alive?”
Elena nodded.
“And he’s in Chicago.”
We inserted the card into an isolated computer.
Genevieve appeared on the screen.
Alive.
Beautiful.
Terrified.
The video had been recorded three weeks before her supposed death.
“Lawson, if you’re watching this, then everything went wrong.”
I couldn’t
