Chapter 73 The Mother
The Mother
Rourke Hale is efficient.
He is disciplined.
He is precise.
But he is not personal.
Which is his flaw.
I think in pain.
I watch the reports from Eagle River with mild interest.
The girl is too calm.
My son is too confident.
And Saint Lawson…
Is still standing.
That is unacceptable.
I don’t call Rourke.
He wouldn’t understand anyway.
This requires something different.
Something human.
Something messy.
I dial another number.
A man answers.
“Find me something that matters to him,” I say.
“Something that bleeds.”
There is a pause on the line.
Then:
“Yes, ma’am.”
I smile faintly.
“Oh,” I add softly.
“Make sure he knows this one is from me.”
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