IF THE CROFT MATCH FAILS, USE CALLOWAY.
The sentence should not have been powerful enough to silence a room full of people who had survived kidnappings, shootings, betrayals, and twenty years of secrets.
It did anyway.
Allison stared at the back of the photograph.
Six words.
That was all.
Six words written in faded black ink beneath a picture of her parents before they had been her parents.
Before their marriage.
Before Allison.
Before Lucian.
Before Anthony.
Before any of them understood that somewhere, someone had been watching.
Planning.
Moving pieces.
Her thumb trembled against the photograph's edge.
Across from her, Lucian had gone frighteningly still.
Not angry.
Not yet.
She had learned there was a difference.
When Lucian was angry, his jaw tightened.
When he was furious, he became quiet.
This was something else.
He looked hollow.
Theo was the first Calloway to speak.
"What the hell does that mean?"
Nobody answered.
Theo looked at Aaron.
"No."
