I climbed inside, carefully shielding Emma’s head from the door frame.

The interior of the SUV smelled of leather and military-grade floor mats.

General Hayes climbed into the front passenger seat.

“Take us to the base transit quarters, Specialist,” Hayes ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the driver replied.

The engine started with a quiet hum.

I looked out the window as we pulled away from the suburban house.

The streetlights blurred into long yellow streaks against the wet glass.

I felt a cold sweat on my palms.

Emma stirred, opening her dark eyes for a second before closing them again.

“You are safe now, Morgan,” General Hayes said, turning slightly in his seat.

“Thank you, sir,” I whispered.

“I’ve authorized temporary quarters for you on post.”

“It’s secure, and they won’t be able to hassle you there.”

“I appreciate it, General.”

“We will get to the bottom of that DNA report tomorrow,” he said.

“But tonight, you need to rest.”

The drive to the military base took twenty minutes.

The concrete barriers of the main gate loomed in the headlights.