Page 21 of Crossover

Hunter leaned forward, squinting through the windshield as he flicked the wipers back on.

The woman in the parking lot stumbled, her hands grasping at the wet pavement as she tried to push herself up.

I watched her closely, my mind racing. Her movements were erratic, desperate.

“A CIA operative’s behavior would be more controlled,” I mused.

Hunter’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Then, who is she?”

A chilling thought crept into my mind, sending a frost through my body. My breath caught as I spoke the haunting realization. “Ivy’s mother.”

Hunter’s head snapped toward me. “You’ve seen her before?”

The woman was on her feet now, staggering toward the building.

“No. But it has to be. Daniel said something about calling the mother. Who else could she be?”

Which only solidified that something was seriously wrong here. The CIA didn’t bring family members or other civilians into interrogations; interrogations were top-secret, need-to-know situations, aimed at extracting classified intelligence in order to protect the country or the masses.

If this wasn’t a CIA interrogation, then one question shot through my head:what the hell was really going on?

I wasn’t sure, but my instincts screamed one thing loud and clear. “If we don’t stop her before she goes inside,” I warned, “they might kill her, too.”

Before he could respond, I was out of the car, the door slamming behind me. The icy rain hit my face, blurring my vision as I sprinted toward the building, my feet pounding against the road, each step fueled by the desperate need to reach her in time.

I had to save her. And Ivy.

10

IVY

Daniel twisted the gun in his hand as he loomed over me in the dimly lit room. The musty air felt thick, suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on me.

I swallowed hard as his demand echoed in my mind.“Tell me every person you confided in about your concerns over your father’s death. And your claims of being innocent against the evidence against you.”

“Why, so you can kill them, too?” I asked.

Daniel crouched down, just outside of kicking range.

Coward.

“You seem to be under the impression you have a choice in the matter, Ivy.” His tone was condescending, as if he were speaking to a child. But maybe, God willing, he was bluffing about torturing me.

“If you wanted to torture me for information, why send Grayson to kill me back then instead of taking me hostage?”

He scratched his temple. “Before, you were merely a grief-stricken girl upset over her father’s death. Now, your suspicions over his death might take legs in other people’s minds. Especially after you were almost killed in that garage. More importantly, you and Grayson have probably been spreadingdoubts about the evidence against you. I’ll need every name involved.”

Oh God. Grayson’s brothers, Luna, Barry—they’d all be in danger, too. Were they already dead? Had the CIA killed them after those men threw me into the van? I opened my mouth to ask, but if I asked about Grayson’s brothers at this exact moment, Daniel would take that as an admission they knew something they shouldn’t. And if, God willing, Grayson’s brothers were still alive, I wanted to keep it that way. So, as painful as it was to not know, I shifted the question to something different.

“That evidence,” I started. “How did you manufacture it?” I shifted slightly, feigning nonchalance despite the sinking pit in my stomach. “It was quite compelling. Well, almost.” Daniel’s jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. “But you left a digital footprint. And if someone else looks at it, they’ll see it, too.” I relished the flicker of uncertainty that crossed his features.

“If you don’t give me names,” he said, his words hanging in the air like a guillotine, “I’m afraid I’ll have to assume everyone in your life is compromised. Every coworker, every nurse that you have come across at your grandmother’s medical facility…” He raised his eyebrows. “Your grandmother.”

A cold sweat broke over my skin, but I tried to swallow the horror gripping my windpipe. He had to be bluffing; he couldn’t take out everyone in my life without raising suspicion.

“It’s only a matter of time before you’re screwed, Daniel. No matter what you do to me.” I forced the words out, my voice wavering slightly. “Only I’m pretty sureyourcrimes will be categorized as treason.”

Daniel swiped his lower lip with this thumb. “Tell me what you told that detective.”

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