His hand tightened around the beer bottle.
“You left, Harper. You always left. For school. For some job you wouldn’t explain. For Mom’s funeral. For Dad’s surgery. For everything that mattered.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time twice.
My pulse changed.
Not faster.
Sharper.
I knew that pattern.
Maddox saw my hand go still.
He whispered, “Problem?”
I did not answer him.
I took my phone out and checked the screen.
No caller ID.
Just one line.
CINDER / ACTIVE / BRASS RAIL / 21:14
My eyes lifted to the front window.
Rain streaked down the glass.
Outside, a black pickup sat across the street with its engine running.
Too far from the curb.
Driver inside.
No headlights.
The envelope in my jacket was no longer just heavy.
It was hot.
Mason was still talking.
“You come home after two years like nothing happened, sit in Dad’s house reading mail, judging me, and now you want my guys to salute because you said two magic words?”
