The photograph of Daniel Mercer lay beneath the broken window.
Elena couldn’t stop looking at it.
The investigator was dead.
The name of Rosemary’s betrayer remained hidden.
And the only surviving clue was a Harrison key marked with the number thirty-seven.
Adrian stood several feet away, staring at the ashes of Daniel’s testimony.
His face had gone strangely blank.
Elena knew that expression.
It was the look of someone trying to hold together a world that had already begun collapsing.
Victor was the first to speak.
“We need to leave.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Not yet.”
Victor’s expression tightened.
“The assassin could have accomplices.”
“Then let them come.”
Elena stepped toward Adrian.
“Adrian.”
He looked at her.
His eyes were full of something she’d never seen there be
