The photograph sat on Elena's screen like something radioactive.
She turned it toward the group without a word, and watched four faces absorb the same image at once — Marcus Vale's study, the argument frozen mid-motion, and a young man in the shadows whose fury had apparently been simmering, unaddressed, for two decades.
"That's him," Dante said quietly. "That's exactly how he looked that night."
"He's been sending these," Adrian said. "All of them. The warnings to Elena, the message about my father's body, the photo just now." He looked up, something hardening in his expression. "He's not hiding anymore. He wants to be found."
"Or he wants us to think that," Elena said. "There's a difference."
Adrian's phone rang before anyone could answer.
He glanced at the screen, and his face cha
