Because suddenly, Sarah’s broken arm wasn’t the whole story. It was the opening act.
If collectors had shown up while Sarah was on the floor… while Meera was alone…
I didn’t finish that thought. I didn’t let it exist all the way, because it made my hands tremble.
Meera’s “wrong number” hadn’t just summoned help. It had pulled her out of the path of something worse.
Morrison returned, face tighter than before. “You were right about Holloway,” he said. “He’s not just violent. He’s under investigation for draining his mother’s retirement account. Fifteen grand.”
I exhaled through my nose. “So he steals from his own mom. Breaks his girlfriend’s arm. Endangers a kid.”
Morrison glanced toward Meera, sleeping. “And now he’s missing.”
I tilted my head. “Missing?”
“We put out a pickup,” Morrison said. “But he’s not home, not with his usual associates.”
Reaper’s phone buzzed. He checked it, then looked at me.
“Found him,” he said simply.
