Maya's POV
The flight back home felt longer than the flight to Monaco. My body ached everywhere,my back, my feet, my swollen ankles. The baby had been restless since the confrontation, moving constantly as if sensing my anxiety.
Alex sat beside me, his shoulder bandaged beneath his shirt, his face drawn with pain he was trying to hide. Caroline sat across the aisle, typing on her laptop with focused intensity.
"What are you working on?" I asked.
"Coordinating with the FBI," Caroline said without looking up. "Margaret's testimony is opening up new leads. She's giving names, locations, financial records—everything she knows about the families' operations."
"Why would she cooperate?"
"Because she's smart enough to know prison is better than what the families will do to her for failing."
