Ava’s POV
I stared at the picture until the edges blurred.
Dr. Snyder’s medical bag.
I knew it.
Morgan knew it.
Tootsie knew it.
Not because it was special.
It wasn’t.
The thing had been beaten to hell long before Venezuela.
One zipper stuck. The fabric near the bottom had been patched twice.
Red medical tape wrapped one handle after it started splitting.
Snyder used to joke the damn bag would outlive him.
It had.
My stomach rolled.
True looked between the three of us.
“You’re all positive?”
“Yes,” Morgan answered immediately.
Tootsie nodded.
“That’s Snyder’s.”
Morgan took the phone again, enlarging the photograph.
“That red tape was there before Venezuela.”
“So was the tear near the corner,” I said.
Gage looked at us.
“When was the last time any of you saw it?”
T
