“Then we do not go back.”
I stared at him.
“My things—”
“Forget them.”
“My phone—”
“Leave it.”
“She’ll know.”
“That’s fine.”
He stood.
“She already knows you’re suspicious.”
“How?”
“You disappeared last night and broke into your house.
She found you.”
I remembered.
How had my mother known exactly where I was?
Not guessed.
Known.
My hand moved toward my jacket.
I found my phone.
Quade took it.
He examined the case.
Then removed it.
Behind the battery compartment was a tiny black square.
A tracker.
My knees weakened.
He held it between two fingers.
“She wasn’t protecting you.”
His voice was flat.
“She was keeping you where she could find you.”
7. MY SISTER TELLS THE TRUTH
We needed Sabine.
I hated that.
But the safest way to break a conspiracy is often through the weakest conspirator.
Sabine was frightened.
Preston was greedy.
My mother was patient.
Fear breaks first.
Quade arranged the meeting in the parking garage beneath a hotel forty miles away.
Sabine arrived alone.
She thought she was meeting a representative from Fallow Bridge.
Instead, I stepped from behind a concrete pillar.
She screamed.
Actually screamed.
Her back slammed against her car.
“No.”
I walked toward her.
“No, no, no.”
“Hello, Sabine.”
She covered her mouth.
“You’re dead.”
“So you hoped.”
She started crying.
Not the funeral tears.
Real ones.
“You were supposed to be asleep.”
The words came out before she could stop them.
I froze.
“Supposed to be asleep?”
She realized her mistake.
I grabbed her arm.
“What did you think was going to happen?”
“Renee—”
“Tell me.”
“I swear I didn’t know they were going to bury you.”
My hand loosened.
“What?”
Sabine slid down the car until she was crouching on the concrete.
“He said it was temporary.”
“Who?”
“Preston.”
“What was temporary?”
“Your death.”
The phrase was so insane that I nearly laughed.
Sabine sobbed.
“He said we needed you unconscious.
He said Dr.
