Hidden in the shadows behind Welita’s house, Lash peeked through the open window, hoping he’d find Naomi. He had gone to the address that was given to him, but when he found she wasn’t there, he’d searched the apartment for clues as to where she might be. Given the vision Raphael had shown him, he obviously needed to keep careful watch and couldn’t wait until she returned.
He found nothing unusual: a small and sparse bedroom, a living room with textbooks lining bookshelves, a kitchen that was spotless except for the stack of papers on the table. He glanced at the newspaper placed on top of the pile. It was opened to the obituary pages, and a photo of a middle-aged man smiled out at him. Underneath the photo was a name: Javier Duran.
Lash snatched the paper and read it closely. There were
