I stared at Casey across my kitchen table and my stomach stayed tight while he dropped a thick file folder beside my notebook.
“What is it?” I asked.
“You remember the symbol on his wrist? I know you were looking at it.” Casey said.
“Unfortunately.” I said. And his expression didn’t change and somehow that made me even more nervous.
“Yeah, well, I found it.” He said.
“Where?” I asked.
Casey opened the folder and slid a photograph across the table.
I looked down and then I stopped breathing for a second. It was the exact same symbol. Not close and not similar. It was the exact same one.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
Casey sat down across from me and pointed toward the photograph.
“This came from an evidence file. A trafficking investigation.” I said.
The words landed he
