(Hailey Miller's POV)
The patrol car's engine purred — a familiar, low sound that should have been steadying, but instead made my nerves thrum louder. Parker gripped the wheel with white knuckles, eyes darting to every mirror as if the reflections could warn him first.
“We're almost there,” he murmured. “The Bell Café. If Ethan left anything—”
His voice carried a hope I couldn't share. The photograph of Liam walking free had hollowed something out of me. Was Parker really with me, or another piece on Liam’s board?
“Lieutenant, are you sure we're not being followed?” I asked, my voice thin.
“I’ve checked. There's no one there,” he answered, but the certainty wasn’t in it.
When the car turned, the café came into view: small, run-down, its sign hanging crooked. The street around it was
