Lily sat in the corner drawing.
Nathan walked toward her.
“What are you drawing?”
“A road.”
“Where does it go?”
“To Daddy.”
Nathan crouched beside her.
“Do you know where your daddy is?”
She nodded.
“Where?”
“He told me not to say.”
Nathan smiled.
“That's okay.”
She looked at him.
“He said you'd ask.”
Nathan laughed softly.
“He knew me well.”
Lily continued drawing.
Then she stopped.
“Uncle Nathan?”
Nathan froze.
Nobody had called him that in years.
“What?”
“Daddy said you were supposed to take me riding.”
Nathan swallowed.
“When?”
“When I turned eight.”
“You're seven.”
“I know.”
She looked at him seriously.
“So I'm early.”
Rico laughed.
Nathan smiled.
“Maybe.”
Then the door opened.
A biker entered.
His face was pale.
“Truck outside.”
Nathan stood.
“What about it?”
“Someone left this.”
He handed Nathan a small cardboard box.
Inside was a motorcycle helmet.
Evan's helmet.
A bullet hole marked the side.
Nathan stared.
Underneath it was another note.
ONE WEEK.
Rico looked at the note.
“One week for what?”
Nathan turned it over.
Nothing.
Lily suddenly spoke.
“Daddy said the number means something.”
“What number?”
“One hundred.”
Nathan frowned.
“Where did you hear that?”
“He counted.”
“What?”
“People.”
Nathan looked at Rico.
Then at the list.
Twenty-three names.
One week.
One hundred.
The puzzle wasn't complete.
But someone wanted them to solve it.
---
The safe house was an abandoned farmhouse twenty miles outside Cedar Falls.
It had thick walls.
A basement.
Two entrances.
Perfect for hiding.
Nathan hated it.
Not because it was unsafe.
Because it reminded him of the last time he'd seen Evan.
They had argued.
Evan wanted Nathan to leave the brotherhood.
Nathan refused.
“You can't save everyone,” Evan had told him.
Nathan had answered,
“Watch me.”
Three days later, Evan disappeared.
Nathan never forgave himself.
That night, he sat on the porch.
Lily joined him.
“Can't sleep?”
She shook her head.
“Me neither.”
“Why?”
“Grandma cries when she thinks I don't see.”
Nathan looked at the darkness.
“She misses your dad.”
“Me too.”
“You remember him?”
“Yes.”
“What do you remember?”
She thought.
“He sang badly.”
Nathan laughed.
“He did.”
“He made pancakes at midnight.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He said you were his best friend.”
Nathan looked away.
“He was mine too.”
Lily leaned against him.
“Then why didn't you find him?”
Nathan had no answer.
“I tried.”
“Not hard enough?”
The words hurt.
But he didn't blame her.
“I don't know.”
Lily looked at him.
“My daddy said you wouldn't give up.”
Nathan swallowed.
“I won't.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
Then Nathan heard something.
An engine.
He stood.
The sound came from the road.
A single motorcycle.
Too slow.
Too deliberate.
Nathan motioned for Lily to go inside.
Rico appeared behind him.
“Problem?”
“Maybe.”
The motorcycle stopped at the gate.
A man raised both hands.
“I'm here to talk.”
Nathan recognized him.
Sheriff Thomas Reed.
Nathan's hand moved toward his belt.
Reed smiled.
“You don't trust me.”
“Should I?”
Reed looked toward the farmhouse.
“I know where Evan is.”
Nathan froze.
“Where?”
Reed shook his head.
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
“Meet me alone.”
Nathan stared.
“No.”
Reed sighed.
“Then Lily dies.”
The world became silent.
Nathan stepped forward.
“You have five seconds to explain yourself.”
Reed smiled.
“Evan isn't dead.”
Then he rode away.
---
Nathan wanted to follow.
Rico stopped him.
“Trap.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you moving?”
Nathan looked at him.
“Because he knows where Evan is.”
Rico shook his head.
“That's exactly why it's a trap.”
Nathan looked toward Lily.
She was watching them from the window.
He lowered his voice.
“We need another way.”
They found it in Evan's photograph.
The motorcycle behind him had a license plate.
Nathan enlarged the image.
The plate belonged to a motorcycle registered to an abandoned repair shop.
The shop had closed six years earlier.
But the building remained.
Nathan and Rico drove there.
Inside, they found nothing.
Then Nathan noticed a mark on the wall.
A pink ribbon.