Page 76 of Only the Hunter

And I don’t ask him to.

“I’ll be right here,” he adds quietly.

I don’t take it as a promise, but as a decision.

My heart beats a thousand strokes a minute.

But I force myself to my phone, to the messages, to the case—because that’s why we’re here. And ironically, the case is safer ground than crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed.

Chapter 17

Gabe

Geneva’s citizens move below us like nothing has changed. They don’t know a woman died because she agreed to testify. Evie’s phone is in her hand. She hasn’t sat down since she opened the message.

“They’ll meet,” she says. “Off-site. Not the main office.”

“Who’s they?”

She finally looks at me. “The woman from the NGO. The one who coordinated Lina’s transfer.”

I wait. There’s got to be more.

“She says she has documentation. Authorization records. Names.”

“And she’s just handing this over?”

“She’s scared,” Evie says. “I sent her the photos. Of the facility. Of Lina.”

I exhale slowly. “Evie⁠—”

“I know,” she cuts in. “But it worked. She’ll talk.”

“When?”

“In an hour.”

I shake my head. “No.”

Her jaw tightens immediately. “You don’t get to say that.”

“I get to say it’s a bad idea,” I reply evenly. “You pushed a frightened source with evidence of a death. Now she wants to meet off-site, in an hour, with no preparation. That’s not cooperation. That’s panic. And panic gets people killed.”

“Or it gets them to tell the truth,” she counters.

“Evie—”

“I’m going,” she says, pulling on her coat like the decision is already made.

Because it is.

I don’t stop her.

But I follow.

The café is small—tucked between a dry cleaner and a bookstore, the kind of place locals use when they don’t want to be noticed. No tourists. Minimal lighting. A single exit at the front. Side door. Likely a back door through the kitchen.

I hate it immediately.