The text message arrived at exactly midnight, just as Mikel and I were finally falling asleep after the longest day of our lives. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and the sender's name made my blood turn to ice.
*James Morrison.*
I hadn't heard from him in five years. Not since he walked out of my life claiming he couldn't compete with a ghost—the ghost being Mikel, even when Mikel wasn't here.
"What's wrong?" Mikel asked, immediately alert. He'd gotten good at reading my panic.
I showed him the screen, watching his face change as he read: *Bella, I know you don't want to hear from me, but this is about Emma. Meet me tomorrow at Pike Place, noon. Come alone. Trust me, you need to hear this.*
"James Morrison," Mikel said slowly, his voice carefully controlled. "Your ex."
"My biggest
