“You called the police?” Beatrice gasped, her eyes wide with terror. “They’ll kill her! Didn’t you read the text?”

“I didn’t call them just now,” Liam said.

He turned to look at me, his eyes softening for a fraction of a second.

“Before we entered this place, I activated a tracking beacon on my phone,” he explained.

“The one synced to Detective Holt’s private receiver,” I realized.

“Yes,” Liam said. “She’s been following our location since we left the coastal highway.”

“You fool!” Beatrice screamed, stepping toward the exit. “If they see blue lights, Darrow will burn the place down with her inside!”

“Darrow is a coward,” Liam said. “He won’t burn anything unless he thinks he can get away with it.”

A cold draft swept through the broken window frame, carrying the scent of salt water and rotting wood.

Outside, the wind was rising, rattling the loose corrugated iron on the roof.

Suddenly, a faint beam of light swept across the charred drywall near the entrance.

It was gone as quickly as it appeared, followed by the soft crunch of gravel.

“They’re here,” I whispered.