Bailey's POV
“Show it to me.”
Declan stopped pacing immediately, his mouth half open like he had been about to say something else just to keep the air moving, and Rider’s jaw tightened as he looked at me.
“No,” Rider said, controlled and careful, “you don’t need to see that.”
“I’m not asking,” I replied, my voice flat, steady in a way that surprised even me.
The room went quiet enough that I could hear my own breathing, slow and deliberate, and Rider watched my face for something, fear or panic or collapse, but he did not find it, and after a long second he handed me the phone.
I looked at the photograph once.
Once was enough.
Then I handed it back, my fingers not shaking even though my wolf was slamming against my ribs like she wanted out, like she wanted blood.
“That’s all,” I
