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Clara rarely spoke about her family. She left New York, changed her name, and built an entirely new life in Savannah. I always believed Bennett represented freedom. A clean break from whatever had hurt her badly enough to walk away.

Now I’m no longer certain.

Roman watches me through the screen. “You think she’s connected to Clara.”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I continue studying the woman who has somehow inserted herself into every part of our investigation.

“I think Clara spent years running from something she never told me about.”

For the first time since Clara's death, I’m beginning to wonder how much of her past remained hidden.

The silence stretches until Roman notices me glance toward the time displayed in the corner of the monitor.

Twelve twenty.

Maggie should have eaten by now.

Roman notices exactly where my attention has gone. The corner of his mouth almost moves.

“Go,” he says.

I look back toward the screen. “We’re not finished.”

“We’re never finished,” Roman replies. “Sasha can keep digging. I can make calls. You can stop pretending you’re listening while thinking about whether Maggie ate lunch.”

Sasha lowers her gaze to her tablet with the discipline of an employee who values continued employment. Viktor suddenly seems very interested in the view outside the windows.

I narrow my eyes at my brother. “Careful.”

Roman doesn’t appear remotely concerned.

“Your woman is pregnant, stubborn, and surrounded by animals. That’s a bad combination if no one forces food into her hands.”

“She’s not a child.”

“No,” Roman agrees. “She’s worse. She has purpose.”

That, unfortunately, is true.

Maggie will feed every dog, comfort every volunteer, answer every phone call, and forget her own body exists until it forces her to stop. Pregnancy hasn’t changed that. If anything, it’s only made her more determined to prove she can still carry every responsibility she had before.

I look back at the photograph one final time.

The woman watches me from thirty years ago with dark, unreadable eyes. Clara's surname sits beside her foundation. Enzo's money moves through her network. Maggie and Ivy stand directly in the path of whoever has been orchestrating this.

“Keep working,” I tell Sasha. “I want to know how she connects to Clara.”

“I’ll find out,” Sasha promises.

I end the call with Roman and leave Black Tide through the private exit with Viktor at my side. The late afternoon heat rises from the pavement in shimmering waves, mingling with the scent of river water, diesel, and salt from the nearby port. Luka waits beside the SUV and opens the rear door as we approach.

“The shelter,” I tell him.

Viktor slides into the passenger seat.

Luka circles to the front and slides behind the wheel after shutting the rear door. “Mrs. Bennett called earlier.”

“Why?”