Marisol looked down at her notes.

“They did not give me an exact figure yet,” she said. “But they confirmed there was significant activity over the last forty-eight hours.”

“He was preparing to run,” I said.

“Yes,” Marisol said. “He knew we were getting closer.”

“And Stephanie helped him,” I said.

“Undoubtedly,” Marisol said. “She has been his enabler for years.”

I felt a cold wave of anger wash over me, replacing the fear.

I had spent years keeping their secrets and paying their debts.

I had let them treat me like a bank account while I recovered from third-degree burns.

“I want to find him,” I said.

“Let the police handle that,” Marisol said quickly. “We have open reports for domestic violence and fraud.”

“The police are slow,” I said. “You know that.”

“I know,” Marisol said. “But going after him yourself is dangerous.”

“I am not going to confront him,” I said. “I just want to know where he is.”

I looked at the phone screen again.

The signal strength icon flickered back to life.

A small green dot appeared on the map interface inside the app.