AT MY MOTHER’S 76TH BIRTHDAY DINNER, SHE ANNOUNCED MY BROTHER WAS SELLING THE HOUSE I’D PAID FOR FOR ELEVEN YEARS—THEN GAVE ME 30 DAYS TO MOVE OUT. SHE DIDN’T KNOW I OWNED THE HOUSE.

The autumn breeze suddenly felt freezing.

"Shot?" I repeated, my voice hollow. "How could Todd shoot two armed federal guards from inside a locked transport cage?"

"He didn't," Daniel said, his face pale. "The ballistic report shows the shots were fired from outside the van. Someone orchestrated the crash. Someone intercepted the transport and broke him out."

"The cartel," I breathed, dread pooling in my stomach like lead.

"We don't know for sure," Daniel said, stepping closer to the door. "But the FBI is treating this as a highly organized extraction. Todd is in the wind, Claire. And the feds believe he might try to come here."

"Why would he come here?" Lily asked, stepping out onto the porch behind me. Her hand instinctively went to the silver locket around her neck. "He knows Mom has the house. He knows the money is secure. He has nothing left to steal."

"He doesn't want money anymore, Lily," Daniel said grimly. "If the cartel broke him out, they didn't do it to save him. They did it because they want the man who originally stole from them fifteen years ago. But Michael is dead."

I stared at Daniel, the horrific realization dawning on me.

"They broke Todd out to use him," I said.

"Yes," Daniel nodded. "They want him to lead them to Michael’s family. To you. The cartel doesn't believe Michael acted alone. They think you know where the original three million dollars went."

"But Sterling took that money!" I argued, panic rising. "Sterling confessed! Arthur gave the cartel the proof!"

"Sterling is dead, Claire," Daniel said quietly.

I froze. "What?"

"He was found hanging in his federal cell last night. Ruled a suicide. But the cameras in his cell block malfunctioned ten minutes before he died." Daniel rubbed the back of his neck. "The cartel tied up their loose end. And now, they’re coming for Todd’s."

The peaceful sanctuary of my home shattered in an instant. The fortress Michael had built for us was impenetrable legally, but it couldn't stop bullets.

"We need to pack," I told Lily, spinning around. "Grab a bag. Just the essentials. We're going to Arthur's."

"You can't go to Arthur's," Daniel interrupted, grabbing my arm to stop me. "The FBI already checked his residence. It's empty. His office is cleared out. Arthur Vance disappeared four hours ago."

"Arthur ran?" I asked in disbelief. The old attorney had been utterly fearless in the bank vault in Chicago. Why would he run now?

"Or he was taken," Daniel suggested softly. "Claire, you need to come with me. Right now. I have a safe house upstate. A cabin my dad used for hunting. Nobody knows it exists. I can hide you there until the feds track Todd down."

I looked at my cousin. He was wearing his uniform. He looked sincere. But eleven years of betrayal by my own blood had severely damaged my ability to trust family.

"Why are you helping us, Daniel?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly. "You sat at that table during the birthday dinner. You watched Mom and Todd try to steal my house. You didn't say a word."

Daniel flushed with shame. "I know. And I hate myself for it. I was scared of Todd. He knew I had gambling debts, and he threatened to tell the department if I intervened. But this... this is life and death, Claire. I can't let him hurt you."

He held out his car keys. "Please. Trust me."

I looked at Lily. She nodded slightly, her face pale but resolute.

"Let me grab my purse," I said.

I ran inside, grabbed my purse from the kitchen counter, and shoved my cell phone inside. We locked the heavy front door and hurried down the driveway to Daniel’s unmarked police cruiser.

Daniel drove fast, navigating the back roads out of the suburbs and onto the highway heading north toward the mountains.

The silence in the car was suffocating. I kept checking the rearview mirror, expecting to see a black SUV tailing us, but the road remained clear.

Two hours passed. The city faded into dense, pine-covered mountains. The sun began to set, casting long, dark shadows across the winding asphalt.

"We're almost there," Daniel said, turning off the highway onto a gravel logging road.

The cruiser bumped along the rough terrain for another ten miles before emerging into a small clearing. Sitting in the center of the woods was a rustic, wooden cabin. There were no other houses for miles. No cell phone towers. No witnesses.

Daniel parked the car and killed the engine.

"Grab your bags," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. "I'll go unlock the front door."

He stepped out of the car and walked toward the cabin.

I reached for the door handle, but my phone vibrated in my purse.

I pulled it out. I had one bar of signal left. It was a text message from an unknown number.

I opened it.

Claire. It's Arthur. Do not trust Daniel. He isn't a cop anymore. He was fired three weeks ago for corruption. He works for the cartel. Get out of there NOW.

My blood turned to ice.

I looked up through the windshield. Daniel was standing on the cabin porch. But he wasn't unlocking the door with a key.

He was opening the door to let someone out.