The clock on the wall seemed louder than usual.
9:17 p.m.
Less than three hours until midnight.
I sat across from Damiano in the back seat of the SUV, holding the black box against my chest.
He had barely spoken since the phone call.
Neither had I.
My mind kept going back to Daniel’s voice.
Elena?
He had sounded frightened, but he was alive.
That was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked.
Damiano looked through the windshield.
“Yes.”
The old Romano estate appeared through the trees.
I had never seen it before.
Unlike Damiano’s current home, this place looked abandoned. The paint on the walls had faded, some of the windows were broken, and weeds had taken over most of the garden.
“You grew up here?” I asked.
“Partly.”
