Page 32 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
And I have information they need.
I walk to my kitchen, needing movement to process the magnitude of what I've just done. The hardwood floors are cold under my bare feet, and the contrast grounds me in physical sensation after hours lost in digital space.
As I reach for a glass of water, my secure email pings. The sound makes me freeze, water glass halfway to my lips.
A new message sits in one of my encrypted inboxes, from an address I don't recognize: [email protected]
The timestamp shows it arrived less than five minutes after I sent my message to Asher.
Echo,
Your expanded Paradise Elite analysis is impressive. The network scope and coordination patterns you've identified represent significant tactical intelligence. Centurion Protection Group specializes in cases exactly like this.
We should discuss mutual interests and operational capabilities.
-C.T.
My hands shake as I run a quick trace on the domain. Legitimate security contractor. High-level corporate clients. Government contracts. The timing isn't coincidental. This came right after I sent Asher the expanded network data.
His team. They're not just watching, they're already analyzing what I sent. They know the scope of what I've found.
But they don't know about Sacramento yet.
My chest tightens as the implications sink in. This isn't just about Asher anymore. I've caught the attention of an entire organization. People with resources and training I can't even imagine.
But I still hold the most valuable card—actionable local intelligence.
The water glass slips from my numb fingers, shattering on the kitchen floor. The sound echoes through my loft like a gunshot.
Tomorrow just got infinitely more complicated. But also more promising.
I stare at the broken glass, each shard reflecting the blue glow from my monitors like tiny digital screens. The symbolism isn't lost on me—I've just shattered my own safety, my own anonymity.
But maybe some things need to break before they can be rebuilt into something stronger.
I leave the mess for later and walk back to my projection display. The Sacramento agency's information glows prominently among the network nodes, close enough to feel real, immediate, urgent.
Twenty minutes away. Real victims. Real chance to stop this.
But only if I can trust Asher Cross with more than just data. Only if I can trust him with lives.
I save the Sacramento details to a separate encrypted file, password-protected and isolated from my other systems. Tomorrow's bargaining chip. Proof that I'm not just another hacker with theories. I'm someone with intelligence that can save lives.
I stumble toward my bedroom, collapsing onto my unmade bed, fully clothed. The sheets smell like coconut shampoo and the vanilla candle I burned three days ago. Familiar scents that usually comfort me, but tonight feel like reminders of innocence I'm about to lose.
Sleep comes fitfully, but even in dreams, I feel those dark, intense eyes watching, evaluating, deciding whether I'm an asset or a threat.
For the first time in years, I'm not running from danger.
I'm inviting it in.
nine
Asher
The crosshairs of my scope center on a shadow moving behind half-drawn curtains. Three days of surveillance, and Echo remains more phantom than flesh. The silhouette passes the window again, moving with purpose.
"Movement confirmed. Target remains active in primary living space." My voice barely disturbs the surrounding air.
