He almost ignored it. Almost.
Case 2015-0847. You have one week.
His coffee turned to acid in his stomach.
The case number was old, something from long ago.
Why would his father be interested in that? And what did he want?
Another text:Don't make us remind you what's at stake.
He didn't need reminding. His mother's face flashed in his mind. The way she'd looked when they'd finally escaped. The years of hiding, rebuilding, pretending to be someone else.
A third text:One week.
Wyatt set the phone down. His hand was steady, but his pulse wasn't.
His phone buzzed again.
This time, no words. Just a list.
Names. Dates. Locations. Line after line of details his father wanted scrubbed from the file. Witnesses redacted. Connections erased. Evidence altered so carefully that no one would ever notice the seams.
Wyatt scrolled through the changes, his stomach turning with each one. This wasn't a quick fix. This was surgery. Hours of work, maybe days, all while pretending everything was fine. All while sitting ten feet from Sam and Jo and Kevin, people who trusted him.
Could he even do it without getting caught? If the files were digitized, access was tracked. If not, how could he possibly alter paper?
Did he even want to?
He stared at the screen until the words blurred.
Then another message came through.
That's not all.
Wyatt's throat tightened.
Case 2012-0847. Evidence box. Physical item inside needs to disappear.
He read the words three times, each time hoping he'd misunderstood.
Physical evidence.
Not digital records he could alter from behind a keyboard. Not files he could access through his ghost protocols. An actual item sitting in the evidence lockup at White Rock Police Station.
They wanted him to steal it.
His phone buzzed again.
Box cutter. Old case. Prints were never processed. Technology's better now. You understand the problem.
He understood. A decade-old piece of evidence with prints that couldn't be analyzed back then—but could be now. Someone's fingerprints on that blade. Someone who wasstill active. Still dangerous. Still connected to his father's organization.
If that evidence got processed with modern forensics, it could unravel everything.
Another text:Digital changes buy us time. Physical evidence is the real threat. Handle both.
Wyatt set the phone down and pressed his palms flat against the kitchen table, willing his hands to stop shaking.