Third person POV
The wine was cheap, but it burned pleasantly on the way down. Felicity set the glass aside and flipped another page in the file spread across her small table. Moonstone, Royal Hospital, Ellie – or rather, Laney, as she seemed to be calling herself these days.
The glossy photos were neatly labeled, each one a reminder of what had been stolen from her.
Her jaw tightened. The nerve of that woman—walking around freely, smiling in her pale scrubs as if she hadn’t destroyed everything. My life. My pack. My Nolan.
The safe house was dim, a single lamp throwing light across stacks of notes, maps, and grainy surveillance prints. She traced a manicured nail down the edge of one photo: Ellie outside the hospital, hair pulled into a bun, her expression tired but content.
The co
