EMBER’S POV
Daxon’s gone before I finish the word, melting into the crowd after the grey coat, and then it’s just Reyes and the flower lying on the grey stone between us.
I crouch over it.
The impossible cold-blooming thing, white petals edged in pale pink, exactly the same as the one Rafael pressed into my hand a lifetime ago.
“Reyes.” I don’t take my eyes off it. “Bag this. Don’t touch it with your bare hands, tape it up properly, and get it to whoever runs forensics for Knox. I want every print on it that isn’t that man’s.” I straighten, finally looking at him. “Fast as you can.”
And under the cold, under the fear sitting heavy in my chest, there’s one clear thread pulling at me, steady and certain: home.
I want to be home. I want Knox. I want to walk through that door and put all
