The front window exploded inward. Glass sprayed across the living room like shrapnel, glittering in the faint lamplight. I ducked instinctively, dragging Noah with me as a fresh volley of gunfire ripped through the walls.
“Move!” Desmond barked, already crouched low by the back door, his pistol firing into the night. His silhouette was jagged and wild, like a man who knew this was his penance.
I clutched the file against my chest as Noah grabbed my arm, pulling me into motion. Every muscle in my body resisted, terror rooting me to the spot where my mother’s death still echoed like a gunshot in my bones but Noah’s grip was unrelenting. His strength was the only thing that kept my legs moving.
The hallway was narrow, the walls vibrating with each impact of bullets. Drywall burst and splin
