Page 119 of Without a Trace
Alden nodded once.
I took a breath, then met Trace’s eyes. “What the fuck is the Hollow Order?”
A pause. Not a dramatic one—just a breath they hadn’t expected to take.
“Think of it like the spine beneath everything,” Kane added. “The thing that keeps the world from snapping.”
“The spine of what?” I asked.
“Power,” Zeke said. “Control. Secrets.”
“It was built to hold the balance,” Trace added. “To keep certain things from tearing everything apart.”
“Like what?” I asked, frowning.
Rhett shrugged, his tone still unusually serious. “Sometimes people. Sometimes truths.”
“And you’re all in it?” I asked.
Each of them nodded.
“Since when?”
“Most of us were born into it,” Kane answered. “Or chosen early. It’s not something you walk away from.”
I turned to Trace. “And I was never supposed to know?”
“You were supposed to be safe,” he said.
“That worked out well,” I muttered.
Alden didn’t flinch. “You’ve known us for so long. We didn’t know how to tell you without losing you.”
“I’m not some fragile little thing you need to protect with lies,” I snapped.
“No,” Trace said, meeting my gaze again. “You’re not.
“We didn’t know how to tell you,” Rhett offered.
“No,” I snapped. “You didn’t try.”
Trace opened his mouth, but I held up a hand.
“I’m not mad that it’s dangerous,” I said. “I’m mad that you all stood there for years, acting like I wasn’t already bleeding for this.”
A crack rippled through the center of the table—the kind of silence that hummed.
“I would’ve come with you,” I said. “If you'd asked.”
Kane spoke softly, “That’s why we didn’t.”
I stood back up, slowly, my chair scraping against the wood, the hem of my dress catching in the breeze.
But I didn’t walk away. I poured more wine, let them see the fury in my posture, the way I straightened my shoulders like a warning.
“I’m not your mission,” I said. “Not your secret. Not your pawn.”
Trace’s voice was gravel. “We know.”
