Chapter 49 Morgan
Morgan
The cursor blinked at me, daring me to move. One keystroke, and the guys would see what I’d uncovered. One keystroke, and I’d be admitting I was still in this fight, that I hadn’t listened when Damian told me to stay out of it.
I chewed my lip, fingers hovering over the keys.
Damian’s face came back to me—his voice low, his promise steady. “When this is finished, I’ll be back.” The way his eyes burned when he told me to trust him. The memory tightened in my chest like a fist.
If I sent this breadcrumb, he’d know. They all would. Cyclone would catch the pattern, River would curse and roll his eyes, and Roger would probably grit his teeth until his jaw cracked. And Damian—
He’d look at me with that mix of anger and fear again. Only this time, maybe it wouldn’t soften. Maybe he wouldn’t forgive me.
But if I didn’t send it? If I sat here with Ruby safe in her bed, pretending I couldn’t see the chain stretching across those files? Then more girls would disappear. Luthor would keep breathing. And Damian would keep risking his life blind.
I swallowed hard, pressing a hand over the recorder like it could ground me. “You told me not to write this into a book,” I whispered, “but Damian, I don’t know how not to write this for you.”
My throat ached as I forced myself to type, embedding the coordinates into the data stream the same way I had before. A breadcrumb tucked between the lines, waiting for Cyclone’s sharp eyes to pull it free.
When I hit enter, the weight in my chest shifted. Not lighter. Not heavier. Just different.
I leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling as tears burned behind my eyes.
“Please see it,” I whispered. “Please understand why I do this.”
The recorder’s red light blinked steadily in the dark, capturing every word I was too afraid to say out loud.