The first line of the transcript appeared on the screen.

But before I could click play, a red warning box flashed in the corner of the monitor.

An incoming alert was bypassing my secure firewalls.

I stared at the screen as a video feed began to load.

The screen flickered.

The red warning box expanded to fill the entire center monitor.

A secure video feed established a connection.

My former handler, Marcus Vance, sat at his desk in the Denver field office.

He looked tired, the deep lines around his eyes pronounced under the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Evelyn,” he said, his voice flat. “You’re off-grid.”

“I had to go dark, Marcus,” I replied.

“The Director is already asking questions about the database access from your laptop.”

“Tell him I’m tracking a lead.”

“You’re on administrative leave, Evelyn. You don’t have leads. You have a custody battle.”

“It’s not just a custody battle anymore,” I said, leaning toward the microphone.

“What does that mean?”

“Grant didn’t just walk away. He took Lily. He broke her.”

Marcus rubbed his forehead.

He knew what my daughter meant to me.