I looked at Lily one last time.

“I will see you soon, baby,” I whispered.

She did not look up, but her small fingers twitched against the floor.

I turned and walked out of the dining room.

My boots clicked on the marble foyer.

I picked up my duffel bag from the floor.

The heavy oak door shut behind me with a solid thud.

The autumn air was cold.

I walked down the stone steps to my rental car.

My hands were steady, but my chest felt like it was filled with broken glass.

I put the duffel bag in the trunk.

I got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

I drove down the winding gravel driveway, leaving my home behind.

But I was not leaving Denver.

I drove toward the highway, my mind already calculating my next moves.

I reached into my pocket and stopped the recording.

The file was automatically uploading to my secure cloud server.

I needed a safe place to work.

I needed a secure terminal.

I tapped the GPS screen on the dashboard and entered a set of coordinates.