The Federal Agent Who Returned to Reclaim Her Shattered Home and Child
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.