Page 72 of Shadow Burn

Katherine sat on the edge of the bed and let herself breathe. Her body hurt in small ways now that the adrenaline had thinned. Her thighs ached from sprinting to the gate. Her healing palm throbbed, letting her know it was still damaged. Her throat felt raw from shouting.

Beneath all of that was the memory of Jasper’s mouth on hers, his hands, his body warm and solid against her while the world had briefly become something other than fear.

Her phone rang. Katherine reached for it, prepared to see Emma’s name as the sender and already wondering how to spin her current circumstances so as not to worry her sister. She’d say the work was complicated and had hit a snag. That she was staying in a new, more secure facility. That Priss was being spoiled shamelessly by a team of former military men who pretended they weren’t all emotionally compromised by one gray cat with judgmental eyes.

Then she saw the screen. Unknown number.

Unease slipped cold beneath her ribs.

When she opened the message and saw the photo, Katherine stopped breathing.

Emma stood beside her van in a school parking lot, one hand on the open sliding door, her hair loose around her face as she leaned in. Cordi stood near the curb in a pink jacket, holding what looked like a lunchbox and laughing at something outside the frame. Mardi was inside. Morning light shone across the windshield. Other cars lined up behind them. Parents. Children. Ordinary life.

The image had been taken from a distance. A message appeared beneath the photo.

Find the Vance paper marked Cinder risk not closed. Bring it to the east service gate at 11:40. Come alone. Hand over the original.

Katherine’s hand shook so badly the phone nearly slipped from her fingers. Her lungs wouldn’t work.

A third message arrived.

Tell Perault or anyone at Shadow Point, and Emma’s brakes fail on the way home from school.

The room tilted. Katherine’s first instinct was to run to Jasper. To Garrett. To anyone with a weapon and a plan and the kind of terrifying competence that had kept her alive this long.

Then the next message came.

At 11:35, there will be a distraction at the main gate. Use it. Bring only the paper. Leave your phone in the room. If Shadow Point interferes, the Agency receives evidence of stolen federal materials, obstruction, conspiracy, and unlawful detention and injury of an authorized courier. Perault and his team won’t be able to protect themselves or you from prison.

The words blurred, her heart pounded.

One final text appeared.

Delete this thread, or the next photo will be from much, much closer.

Katherine stared at the words until they blurred again.

Priss finished eating and jumped onto the bed beside her, pressing against her side. The cat purred softly, unaware that the danger had just reached Katherine’s family.

Her stomach turned cold and hollow. For one impossible second, she saw two paths in front of her. On one stood Jasper, the team, the compound, safety, and the promise she’d made—that she wouldn’t walk into danger alone anymore.

On the other stood Emma and two little girls who had nothing to do with Vance, Cinder, Upton, Caldwell, or any of the ghosts Katherine had dragged out of the archive..

Katherine closed her eyes.

Then she deleted the thread.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

For several seconds, Katherine sat perfectly still with Priss pressed against and the phone cold in her hand. Her body wanted to shake. Her mind wanted to splinter into every possible consequence of every possible choice. If she told Jasper, Emma could die. If she didn’t tell Jasper, she’d be betraying the man who’d bled for her a few hours ago. If she handed over the document, the proof might vanish. If she didn’t, her sister and nieces became leverage in a game they didn’t know they were playing.

Priss bumped her hand with her head.

Katherine looked down at the cat, then toward the closed door where Sebastian waited on the other side. Whoever had sent the message knew exactly how trapped she was and had designed the demand around it.

Hand over the original.

Not a scan. Not a copy. Not a photo.