The sun had barely risen when Elowen’s phone buzzed sharply across the wooden table. She glanced down, heart tightening at the sender’s name: Landon Kade. The message was brief but urgent.
They’re moving again. Midnight. Old docks.
Elowen’s breath caught. The old docks were desolate, a perfect place for secrets and shadows to dance unseen. She knew this was no coincidence—Celeste’s last desperate act was far from over. Somewhere deep inside, a part of her feared what would come next.
Elijah leaned in, eyes dark with determination. “We can’t wait. If they’re moving her, it means they’re trying to disappear before we can strike.”
Elowen’s fingers trembled as she pocketed the phone. “We have to get there first.”
—
The drive to the docks was tense, the silence inside the car broken only
