Damien’s phone buzzed at 3:47 AM.
A text from Jake: “Call me. I found something about Viktor. I found Kevin. Not safe to discuss over the phone. Meet me tomorrow. Warehouse on 5th and Mission. Midnight. Come alone.”
Damien read it three times, his heart hammering against his ribs. Kevin was alive. Jake had found him. After three weeks of searching, of coordinating with authorities in secret, of pretending everything was normal while his best friend worked the streets looking for a fifteen-year-old boy, they finally had a lead.
He looked at the time and realized he had four hours until sunrise. Four hours to figure out what Jake had discovered. Four hours before everything changed.
He didn’t sleep.
He couldn’t respond. Couldn’t leave a digital trail. He just deleted the message and sat
