Elias Pov
Jace pushes to his feet. He digs in the small pack he carried out under his shirt and pulls out a folded paper. The paper is damp at the edges from sweat. He holds it like it weighs more than it should.
“Change of plan,” he says.
Riven’s posture shifts.
“Explain.”
Jace does not look at any of us when he speaks.
“The arson jobs were never just about the money. One of the warehouses I burned held records for a man who still owns half the county outside these walls. He paid me to erase evidence of something worse than what I already did. I kept a copy. Insurance. The paper has coordinates and a name. There is a buyer waiting thirty kilometers from here who will pay enough for all of us to disappear clean. But the deal only works if I deliver it myself tonight.”
Silence lands
