Elena stared at the message for nearly a minute.
The screen of her old phone illuminated the dark apartment, throwing pale light across her face.
Tell Elena. Noah remembers.
Four words.
Four words she had spent twenty-three years hoping she would never see.
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
"No..."
The word escaped as little more than a whisper.
She stood abruptly, knocking a glass from the edge of the table. It shattered against the floor, but she barely noticed.
Noah remembers.
The last time she had seen him, he had been six years old.
A small boy with dark hair and serious eyes who had stood beside his father while snow fell outside the window.
He had been too young to understand what was happening.
Too young to understand why the adults around him had suddenly become afraid.
Too young to know that the man smiling at him would eventually become one of the most dangerous people in the country.
Elena closed her eyes.
She remembered Noah's father.
