Eli's voice.
I haven't heard it in five months. It sounds exactly the way I remember it — young, a little hoarse, the cadence of a boy who talked too fast when he was nervous.
He is very nervous.
"If you're watching this, something went wrong. That's the only reason I'd send it."
I hit pause. My hand is on the door handle and I don't remember grabbing it.
"Keep going," Cain says. His voice is very careful.
I press play.
"My name is Eli Calloway. I'm nineteen years old. I'm going to tell you exactly what I know and exactly who I gave it to, because if something happens to me, someone needs to know where to look."
A sound in the background. Eli's breathing changes. He's watching a door somewhere.
"Dean Calloway — my brother-in-law, married to my sister Wren — paid money to the Sons
