Cane's POV
The screen went black. I slammed my own laptop shut, the sound cracking through my office silence. This Sparrow. This ghost. She was a thorn buried deep in my side, an itch I couldn't scratch. How? How did a woman hide so completely from me? Bishop had resources, eyes everywhere. Yet she floated through our world like smoke.
I stood up, pacing the length of the dark wood floor. My mind was a storm of frustration. She was mocking me. That flippant tone, the casual jokes while the rest of us dealt in billions and blood. It was an insult.
Then it hit me. A crack. A tiny, beautiful crack in her armor.
She'd slipped.
In that moment of panic, she'd used a name. A real name. And her voice… it had been raw, unfiltered. Stripped of the digital mask. It was a mother's voice, sharp with fear. Jolina.
The name echoed in my head. Jolina.
