One second she was on the balcony.

The next she was running barefoot across wet grass.

“POPPY!”

The man carrying her daughter disappeared behind the hedge.

Mara followed.

Someone grabbed her from behind.

She fought wildly.

“Mara!”

Ronan.

“Let me go!”

“Security is ahead of you.”

“That’s my daughter!”

“I know.”

His hands released her.

Together they ran.

A vehicle engine roared beyond the eastern wall.

Ronan pulled out his phone.

“Close every gate.”

A security voice answered.

“East gate compromised.”

“How?”

“Override code.”

Ronan’s face darkened.

An inside code.

Again.

They reached the service road.

A black SUV accelerated through the open gate.

Mara saw Poppy’s face through the rear window.

“Mommy!”

Mara ran after it.

Impossible.

The vehicle disappeared.

Her knees gave out.

Ronan caught her.

“No.”

Mara could barely breathe.

“No, no, no…”

“Look at me.”

“They took her.”

“I’ll get her back.”

“You don’t know that!”

Ronan gripped her shoulders.

“I will get her back.”

For once, his certainty did not frighten her.

It was the only thing holding her upright.

Back inside Raven Hill, Victor acted horrified.

“This is monstrous.”

Mara wanted to attack him.

Ronan stopped her with one look.

Not yet.

They had no proof.

Victor remained for twenty minutes.

Then left.

Ronan allowed him to.

Mara waited until the doors closed.

“Why did you let him walk out?”

“Because now he thinks we don’t know.”

“My daughter is gone!”

“And if Victor has her, attacking him publicly could get her killed.”

Mara hated him for being right.

A phone rang.

Not hers.

Ronan’s.

Unknown number.

He answered on speaker.

A distorted voice said:

“The second drive.”

Everyone froze.

Ronan looked at Mara.

“What second drive?”

The caller laughed.

“Midnight. Pier 19. Bring it alone.”

“Proof the child is alive.”

A pause.

Then Poppy’s voice.

“Mommy?”

Mara lunged toward the phone.

“Poppy!”

“I’m okay.”

The call ended.

Mara closed her eyes.

Alive.

Her daughter was alive.

Ronan immediately began planning.

“No police.”

Mara looked at him.

“Why?”

“Victor owns too many people.”

“You’re sure it’s him?”

Ronan looked toward Evelyn.

“No.”

That answer mattered.

Because Caleb’s warning had not named only Victor.

It had warned them not to trust blindly.

At 11:48 that night, Mara stood at Pier 19.

Alone.

At least, she appeared alone.

The second flash drive was in her coat pocket.

Ronan’s people were hidden beyond the warehouses.

Ronan himself had refused to remain behind.

Mara walked toward the water.

A single light burned above an abandoned loading bay.

“Poppy!”

Nothing.

Then footsteps.

Victor Cain emerged.

No smile now.

“You look older than I remember.”

Mara’s blood chilled.

“So you remember me.”

“Of course.”

“Were you there when Caleb died?”

Victor sighed.

“Caleb asked too many questions.”

Mara’s hand curled into a fist.

“You betrayed the convoy.”

“He betrayed his family.”

“No. He discovered what you were doing.”

Victor smiled.

“Give me the drive.”

“Give me Poppy.”

A door opened.

Poppy appeared between two men.

Her hands were tied.

Mara’s heart broke.

“Mommy!”

“I’m here, baby.”

Victor extended his hand.

“The drive.”

Mara removed it.

“Poppy first.”

Victor laughed.

“You have no leverage.”

“Yes, she does.”

Ronan’s voice came from the darkness.

Victor turned.

Ronan stepped into the light.

Men appeared behind him.

Victor’s smile disappeared.

“You always were dramatic.”

“And you always underestimated Caleb.”

Victor pulled a gun.

Everything happened at once.

Mara dropped.

Ronan moved.

Security flooded the loading bay.

Poppy screamed.

One of Victor’s men dragged her backward.

Mara ran toward him.

He raised his weapon.

Then another figure struck him from behind.

Wesley.

The young kitchen employee who had once filmed Mara for a joke.

He grabbed Poppy.

“Run!”

Mara reached them.

She pulled Poppy into her arms.

Gunfire cracked against metal.

Ronan tackled Victor.

The weapon slid away.

Seconds later, Victor was pinned to the concrete.

Ronan stood over him.

“You killed my brother.”

Victor laughed through blood.

“Your brother killed himself the moment he thought he could expose us.”

“Us?”

Ronan froze.

Victor realized his mistake.

Mara heard it too.

Us.

Not me.

Ronan crouched.

“Who else?”

Victor smiled.

“You still don’t understand your own house.”

Then the warehouse lights died.

Darkness.

Another gunshot.

When emergency lights flickered on, Victor lay on the floor.

Blood spread beneath him.

Someone had shot him.

Not Ronan.

Not Mara.

Not any guard standing nearby.

Victor looked toward Ronan.

His lips moved.

One word.

“House.”

Then he died.

Poppy buried her face against Mara.

Mara covered her ears.

Ronan stared into the darkness.

Victor had been guilty.

But Victor had not been alone.

And whoever had silenced him was still close enough to fire the final shot.