A Stranger Handed Me a Blue Box at Church and Said, “You’ll Need This Tonight”—I Wish I’d Opened It Sooner

Call Amber. Tell her you found what Blair hid.”

At dawn, I made the call. “I found what your mother hid,” I told my daughter.

“Everything.”

“Come to the house,” she said after a pause that stretched too long. “We need to talk.”

They came in force—Amber and Rowan, Detective Callahan, two of Navaro’s men, and Sheriff Brennan in full uniform. They walked into my house like they owned it, and the sheriff didn’t waste time with pretense.

“Where is it, Simon? The recordings, the files, all of it.”

“You killed my wife,” I said. “Your wife was a federal informant,” Brennan replied without remorse.

“She chose her side.”

That’s when Rowan revealed the thing that broke me. “You think this is about Blair? You really don’t know she’s alive, do you?” He stared at me in genuine surprise.

“Your wife’s been operating undercover for a year. We’ve been hunting her. You’re going to call her, tell her you’re in trouble, draw her out.”

I forced my face to stay shocked, confused, ignorant—while my hand moved to the phone in my pocket, activating the live stream to FBI servers.

Sheriff Brennan drew his weapon. “Last chance. Where is Elena Rodriguez?”

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