"Even ice cream?"
"Nice try."
She grins, and some of the fear fades from her face. The resilience of children never stops surprising me, the way they can bounce back when adults pretend hard enough that everything's fine.
Xander leads her toward the elevator. She looks back once, twice, then the doors close and she's gone.
Kade materializes from the shadows near the stairwell. "This way."
We take a different elevator. Industrial. No buttons visible until Kade swipes a card. The panel illuminates with floor options: B3, B4, B5.
He presses B4.
As we descent the air changes to something recycled and filtered, the kind of sterile that comes from systems designed to scrub evidence.
The doors open on an industrial hallway. Exposed pipes overhead, concrete walls, everything designed for function over form.
Angelina's face stays neutral, but her eyes move across the reinforced doors, the biometric scanners, the camera following our movement with its red light blinking steady.
She doesn't ask. Not yet.
We pass server rooms humming behind reinforced glass. I press my thumb to a scanner without breaking stride. She files it away.
Kade stops at the final door. Swipes his card. The lock disengages with a heavy thunk.
"After you, Judge Castellano."
She steps through.
B4 is all industrial efficiency with banks of monitors flickering against reinforced concrete walls and operations displays projecting intel onto the central briefing table.
Kade moves to the main display, tablet in hand. Jax is slouched against the far wall, but his eyes are sharp, tracking. Remy's positioned near the door.
I brace my hands on the briefing table, needing something solid under my palms.
Crime scene photos load on the screen showing Angelina's porch, the flowers, the card.
Kade's voice cuts through. "Delivery timestamp estimated between 2 and 5 AM. No witnesses, no camera footage."
"I have cameras."
His eyes meet mine. "Checked. Forty-three seconds of footage showing a hooded figure with face covered. Walked straight up to the porch like they owned the place."
Forty-three seconds in the middle of the night, walking right up to my front door while we slept. While I held her
My fingers press hard against the table edge.
Jax shifts his weight. "Forensics on the card?"
"Same printer type as previous deliveries. No prints. They're careful."
Kade swipes to a new image showing another porch, another arrangement. "Judge Costa. Sacramento. Found this morning."
Ten judges now.
"The message said justice delayed." Angelina's voice comes quiet but steady. "That's—"
"Twelve days to deadline by the math." Kade swipes to a new screen showing timeline overlays, victim patterns, delivery dates. "But they're not waiting. The other deaths seem to be accelerating."