Wren's Pov
We read the notebook together at the clubhouse, in Reyes's locked office, the same room where I'd first learned about a fifteen-year-old patch and everything that had unraveled since, and by the second page I understood why Theo had risked his life to make sure it survived the night even if he didn't.
The handwriting changed twice through its pages Edwin's, careful and slanted, giving way somewhere in the middle to a second hand, tighter, more controlled, which I understood, without needing to be told, belonged to Theo himself, continuing a record his friend had died leaving unfinished.
"Read this," Damian said quietly, turning to a page near the middle, and I leaned into him to read it properly, close enough that his voice against my hair felt like the only steady thing lef
