Agent Marsha sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’re aware of the challenges. But this time, it’s different. We not only have evidence but also a credible eyewitness. Someone who wason the inside for some of their most horrendous acts. Someone who saw everything.”
My mind races. An eyewitness? Who could have…and then it clicks. The one person unaccounted for. The one we helped escaped and haven’t heard from since.
“Senator Reece Whipers,” I whisper, stunned.
He did it.
He really fucking did it.
He escaped and went to the FBI, as he promised us.
Jeffries gives me a long, unreadable look. “We can neither confirm nor deny the identity of our witness. What I can tell you is that he is cooperating fully and has provided invaluable intelligence on the entire operation, from the human trafficking to the financial crimes.”
Ellie will be so fucking relieved to hear he’s okay.
She just has towake the fuck upfor me to tell her.
“It’s not only that,” Marsha adds, looking a little too pleased with herself. “We also have recordings. Records. Full audio-visual flash drives of the cult’s inner workings, detailing years of horrific crimes. It’s the smoking gun, the kind of proof that makes conviction a certainty.”
My blood runs cold. A flash drive? How the hell would the FBI get the flash drive? We’ve been looking for it for months and haven’t had any luck. It wasn’t something you just found lying around.
I open my mouth to ask, to press them on the source, but a soft groan from the bed steals the air from my lungs.
Ellie’s eyelids flutter. Her brow furrows in confusion.
“Ellie?” Beckett is on his feet in an instant, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. We all surge forward, crowding the bed, the FBI agents forgotten.
Her eyes open, dazed and glassy. They sweep over our faces, one by one. “What…what’s happening?” she whispers, hervoice raspy. “You’re all…here.” She immediately begins to cry, reaching blindly outward, as if she means to hold us to her. I capture one hand, and Landon takes the other, his own metallic eyes swarming with love.
Relief so potent it feels like a physical blow washes over me. I can breathe again.
“Hey, my sleeping princess,” Zane says, his voice thick with emotion as he gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Worried?” She manages a weak smile, her gaze finding Landon’s. “I see I’ve joined the stabbed-in-the-stomach club. Took me long enough.”
Landon’s face, a mask of relieved terror, hardens instantly. His jaw clenches tight. “Don’t you ever fucking joke about that,” he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again—ever—I swear to God, Ellie, I will bend you over my knee and spank your ass so red, you won’t sit for a week.”
The threat is so raw, so full of terrified love, that it breaks the last of the tension in the room.
It’s over.
Aria is dead.
Her cult is dismantled.
We’re all here.
We’re whole.
Ellie’s smile softens, her eyes getting watery. “Promise?” she murmurs, then sniffles.
Almost instinctively, her gaze shifts to seek out Ryker, like she needs confirmation that the two of them are alive. I heard what Aria said to Ellie before. I know my girl believed them to be dead. I can practically taste her relief in the air at seeing them alive and well.
Tension seeps out of me, causing my shoulders to physically droop. This is it. It’s finally over.
Her gaze drifts around the room again, taking us all in, and then a flicker of confusion crosses her features. “Where’s Raymond?” she asks, her voice small.
The room goes silent. Beckett, Zane, Ryker, Landon…we all look at each other. The name hangs in the air, foreign and out of place.