It doesn't make sense. I couldn't find a single connection between the human trafficking ring that operated thirty years ago and Miles's dad. I know people bury their dark pasts far from family, and searching the Kreeve family home was never going to yield anything concrete. Still, I had hoped for breadcrumbs. Something. Anything. But given how he changed his name, Kreeve clearly wants nothing to do with that past. He's severed every thread so thoroughly, I can't even trace the frayed ends.
I glance at the clock on my nightstand. Just past eleven. Freya still isn't back. It's ironic that I chose tonight, of all nights, to sneak into the Kreeve house. It felt fitting somehow. But I left when Freya stepped out. That was nearly an hour ago. She should be back by now. What's keeping her?
I r
