I fell to my knees and stared at the hard tile beneath me. The man behind me released my wrists, and my arms dropped to my sides.
“Thank you for finding her, Zaivar,” a low voice said in front of me.
I glanced at the ticking wall clock. 1:16 a.m. It took him only
“Don’t worry,” Ben whispered to himself. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”
He crept down the path beside his childhood home, breathing a heady, floral scent into his lungs. He stopped under an arbor covered with the red blooms of a climbing rose.
The backyard was packed. Dozens of relatives and friends gathered
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