Cuco’s pov;
I clenched my fingers around the phone. I didn’t have to wonder who it was. I already knew.
I paid and left the diner, my heart slamming hard against my chest. That message wasn’t a threat. It was a reminder.
He was watching. Maldini knew I was alive.
That meant hiding wasn’t enough anymore.
I thought of my uncle’s words. Second chance.
A second chance wasn’t about running farther. It was about choosing differently.
I pulled out the envelope Santiago had given me and checked the fake ID again. New name. New face on paper. Clean enough to pass a quick glance.
But paper couldn’t change blood.
I needed information.
I finally found what I needed. It was a public library close to the motel I had stayed for the past few days. I went inside and spent hours on the computers,
