Not because everyone heard him.
Because my world did.
Cinder.
That name had been buried in three classified reports, two sealed hearings, and one list of confirmed dead.
Cinder was not a person.
Cinder was the leak.
The reason our route was compromised.
The reason Reeves died.
The reason twelve Americans became eleven.
The reason I spent nine years looking over my shoulder.
The reason I had come home after seeing that envelope.
I felt Mason behind me.
Too close.
Breathing hard.
“Mason,” I said, without looking back, “move.”
The man in the hoodie said, “He stays.”
That confirmed the second target.
Not me.
My brother.
My body went cold in the useful way.
Fear makes some people shake.
Fear makes trained people count.
Distance.
Hands.
Witnesses.
Exit.
Weapon probability.
Civilian density.
I said, “Why?”
The man tilted his head.
“Because family opens doors even ghosts can’t.”
Maddox whispered something to Alvarez.
