Kael
By noon the next day, Sabrina’s safehouse had stopped being a hiding place and become an evidence warehouse.
Every room had produced something.
Phones. Burner devices. Handwritten contact lists. Financial records tucked behind a loose panel in the kitchen. A laptop with an encrypted messaging program that one of our investigators cracked before sunrise. Even the nursery work order Evelyn had printed was recovered from a folder beside the dining table, its tracking code still intact.
For thirteen years, Sabrina had been careful.
Not careful enough.
I stood at the conference table in the security wing while Salas worked through the final list of names. Thoren sat opposite us with Nevara beside him, Shelly asleep against her chest. None of us had slept much, but exhaustion felt dif
