Page 76 of Peak’s Code

Maeve smiled grimly. "We're about to break into one of the most secure illegal data centers on the East Coast."

The Enforcer looked from Peak, then to Maeve, and back again. "You two get way too excited about terrifying things." Peak couldn't argue with him, because for the first time since this nightmare began, they finally understood what the Director had really stolen from Wren. It wasn't just her freedom; it was her mind.

The waitress topped off their coffee without asking, but Maeve barely noticed. Her eyes remained fixed on the map glowing from Peak's tablet. The abandoned seafood processing plant, the electrical transfer station, and the underground data center. Every breadcrumb Wren had left finally pointed toward something tangible. Not hope, but evidence that would help her find her sister.

She reached for the coded strip again, tracing the words with her fingertip.

Tide Before Dawn

Wren hadn't been trying to tell her where she'd been. She'd been trying to tell her what mattered—the network, the servers, and the data. Peak had been right. They'd been chasing people, but Wren had been pointing them toward information.

"You've got that look." Peak's voice pulled her back.

"What look is that?” she asked.

"The one where you're five steps ahead of everyone else,” he said.

She smiled faintly. "I think Wren wanted us to shut the whole operation down."

Peak leaned forward. "Why do you think that?" he asked.

"If she'd only wanted me to rescue her—” Maeve tapped the coordinates they'd recovered from Mercer. "She would've left me an address."

Peak nodded slowly. "But she didn't."

"No, she left us the infrastructure."

Warden frowned over the rim of his coffee mug. "Can you put that into English, please?"

Maeve looked at him. "The women aren't the business; they're the product. The information is the product."

Peak finished the thought. "If Director loses the servers, he loses the organization."

Warden slowly lowered his mug. "So we're not saving one woman."

"No." Maeve looked back at the map. "We're saving all of them by taking down the servers. And I’m betting that we get Captain back that way too.”

Silence settled over the booth. It was Peak who finally broke it. "I don't think Wren expects us to rescue her first." Maeve hated how much sense that made. Her little sister had always thought three moves ahead. If Wren had managed to leave clues, then she'd also have known Maeve would come for her unless she'd deliberately tried to stop her.

"Wren knew I'd chase her,” Maeve said.

Peak nodded. "So she gave you something bigger."

Maeve swallowed. "She trusted me to figure it out."

"No." Peak's voice was gentle. "She trusted you to finish what the two of you started." The distinction mattered more than she expected.

Her phone vibrated—not the burner, but her own. Peak immediately reached for it before stopping himself. He looked at her instead. "Expecting anyone to call?"

She shook her head. "No." The screen showed an unknown number. There was no caller ID, and no location. It just said, incoming call. Warden subtly rested one hand beneath the table, closer to the pistol hidden beneath his jacket.

Maeve answered, but didn't speak, and neither did the caller. For several long seconds, there was only silence. But then, she heard breathing and a woman’s voice. It was shallow and uneven, and Maeve’s heart started hammering. "Wren?"

"Maeve.” The world stopped when she heard her sister’s voice. She sounded older and weaker, but it was unmistakably Wren.

Maeve's eyes immediately filled. "Oh, my God.” Peak's entire body went still next to hers. She gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Wren.”

"I'm here." There was a long pause on the other end of the call. "They're listening." Maeve looked toward Peak. He was already opening his tablet and typing, trying to trace or locate the call.