Chapter 44 Morgan
Morgan
The cottage was quiet. Ruby was sleeping down the hall. She slept with nightmares every night, and I should’ve let myself sleep. But I couldn’t. My mind wouldn’t stop turning.
I sat at my desk, recorder beside me, my laptop glowing faintly in the dark. Every note I’d taken, every word I’d recorded, every hunch I couldn’t ignore—they all tangled together, pointing at places the guys hadn’t looked yet.
And if I’d learned one thing from them, it was that hesitation could cost lives.
I traced the keyboard with trembling fingers. Cyclone would see the patterns if anyone did. He was too sharp to miss them. I’d hidden the coordinates in the data stream, folded into noise that would look like nothing to anyone else. To him, though—it would stand out.
I pressed enter, sending the second breadcrumb into the void. My chest tightened as I whispered to the silence, “Please. Please see this. Please trust me.”
The recorder sat waiting on the desk, its red light blinking like it knew my secret. My words had always been for me, but now? Now they were for them. For him.
For Damian.