Bridget had been half-listening to the exchange, watching the two FBI agents circle each other with the wariness of cats meeting for the first time. But her attention kept drifting back to the whiteboard.
She hadn’t meant to look at the crime scene photos. She wasn’t a cop—this wasn’t her case. But the images were right there, pinned up in neat rows.
Wide shots of the woods. Close-ups of disturbed earth. A body, face-down, partially covered by leaves.
Her eyes moved across them, almost absently.
Then they stopped.
One photo. Smaller than the rest. A close-up of evidence laid out on a white background.
A small earring.
Simple. Unobtrusive.
Except for the design.
A broken chain with a single, intact link—shaped like an eye.
Bridget’s breath caught in her throat.
The room didn’t go quiet. Shaw was explaining something about syndicate patterns, Keller was nodding along, Kevin was asking questions. But the sound became distant, muffled, like she’d been shoved underwater.
Her fingers curled against her palms.
She knew that symbol.
The memory surfaced like something dragged up from deep water. Cold. Sharp. Unwanted.
Years ago. Back when she was on the streets. When survival meant doing what you were told and not asking questions.
Something just like that had been worn by the person who’d given the orders. The person who’d looked at her and others like they were tools. Disposable.
The person who’d told them to get rid of a body.
Her stomach twisted.
She could see it now—the glint of metal catching streetlight. The way the chain had swayed when the person moved. The eye-shaped link that had always seemed to be watching.
But that was years ago. A different life. A different Bridget.
This couldn’t be connected. Could it?
“You good?”
The voice cut through the fog.
She turned sharply. Kevin was watching her, concern in his eyes.
For a split second, she thought she’d let something show—a flicker of panic, recognition, the way her hands had gone rigid at her sides. But she recovered quickly, forcing her shoulders to relax, her mouth to curve into something close to a smile.
“Yeah.” Her voice came out steadier than she felt. “Just thinking about work.”
Kevin’s eyes lingered on her for a beat longer than comfortable. Not suspicious, exactly. Just... noticing.
Then he shrugged and took another bite. “Dangerous habit.”
Bridget made herself stay a few more minutes, made herself say goodbye to Jo, made herself walk out of the station like nothing had changed.