I sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the folder Desmond had brought us, the pages wrinkling under my fists. I couldn’t bring myself to read them again. Every word in there was poison, every line proof of Vivienne’s reach, of what she and Catherine had been building. The silence felt like a fourth person in the room, louder than any of us.
Finally, Noah stopped pacing. He planted himself in front of the window, blinds drawn tight, and spoke without turning around.
“We can’t just keep staying here.”
The words were simple, flat, but they cut through me like a blade.
Desmond gave a low laugh, dark and broken. “Where do you expect us to go? You think Vivienne doesn’t already have half the county wired into her pocket? Every cop, every road camera, every safe house you thought was hidden,
