Chapter 1065
It was a photograph of a chessboard sitting on a rustic wooden table, overlooking a snow-covered mountain range. The White Queen had been moved to checkmate the Black King.
A text message appeared below the image, its letters already dissolving.
Sender: Unknown
Message: The air is thin here, but the view is clear. The board is yours now. Don’t hesitate to sacrifice a pawn to save the game. We are watching from the shadows. Stay safe, Phoenix.
Skye touched the screen, tracing the outline of the mountains. There was no “Morning, boss.” No smiling faces. Julian and Ethan were dead to the world, and they intended to keep it that way. The distance felt absolute—a cold void that technology couldn’t bridge.
“I miss you too,” she whispered to the empty room.
She set the tablet down as the message auto-deleted. A pang of loneliness settled in her chest. They were safe, but they were far away. She was here, in the eye of the storm, with a man who loved her with the intensity of a nuclear reaction.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Alistair. He had gone out early for “errands.”
It was a photo.
Alistair, wearing his black tactical gear, was holding a tiny, dirty calico kitten in his large, scarred hand. The kitten looked terrified. Alistair looked focused—holding it at arm’s length, the way a man might handle an unstable explosive device.
The caption read: Found in alley behind warehouse. Biological assessment indicates it is malnourished. Internet suggests kittens induce serotonin production in humans. Do you want to acquire this asset?
Skye stared at the screen. A laugh bubbled up in her throat, catching on a sob.
It was so clearly an attempt. He wasn’t doing it because he loved cats. He was doing it because he thought she needed something to make her happy, and he had executed a search query for happiness.
She typed back: Bring it home. But buy cat food, not C4.
She set the phone down. The laughter faded, replaced by a heavy weight in her chest. She needed an anchor. She needed to close the loop on the past before she could fully embrace this dangerous future.
She thought of Liam.
Liam Kensington, who was currently sitting in a six-by-eight cell in the Federal Detention Center because he had taken the fall for all of them. The one person who had loved her normally, imperfectly, safely.
She checked her watch. Visiting hours started in forty minutes.
She grabbed her coat. She didn’t tell Alistair. He would insist on coming. He would turn it into a security operation. She needed this to be just human.
“Gabriel,” she called as she walked to the elevator. “I’m going out. Tell the driver to take me to the FDC.”
Gabriel Ross looked up from his station in the hallway. He adjusted his glasses, frowning. “Does Mr. Thorne know?”
“He is buying a cat,” Skye said, the doors closing between them. “I’ll be back before he figures out how to use the litter box.”
The Federal Detention Center was a fortress of grey concrete and steel. The air inside smelled of bleach and despair.