A man was at the passenger side door already coming out of the sleeper. One of the girls in his arms, flailing and crying out, her small fists pounding against his chest.
Carla screamed again, scrambling after her daughter.
“HEY!” Sayer was already moving, flying out of the truck and launching himself at the man from behind.
Diamond sprinted the last few feet, heart in her throat, reaching the passenger side just as the man was starting to turn with the girl in his grip.
She didn’t yell. She didn’t threaten. Shegrabbed.
Her hands locked around the child’s waist, wrenching her back with one clean, practiced pull. The girl sobbed into Diamond’s chest as she wrapped her arms around her, clinging like a lifeline.
Behind her, Sayer and the man crashed to the ground. They grappled hard—grunts and the scrape of boots against concrete, fists flying in a blur. Sayer was strong, fast, and angry.
But the guy was slippery. He twisted, elbowed Sayer hard in the ribs, and managed to roll free. Sayer lunged, just barely missing the back of his jacket as the man took off at a dead sprint toward the gate.
Diamond turned in time to see the figure slip through the narrowing opening.
The gate shut.
Too late.
He was gone.
Sayer cursed under his breath; palms braced on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes burned with frustration—and something else. Recognition? No. Not quite. But there’d been something familiar in the way the guy moved. Trained. Controlled.
Diamond’s arms tightened around the girl, heart still hammering in her chest. Carla rushed to her side, scooping both daughters into a trembling hug.
“We’re okay,” Diamond said, more to herself than anyone. “We’re okay.”
But her eyes never left that gate. Because someone had known where to find them. And someone had just sent a message.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Diamond gotthe girls secured inside the cab with Carla, locking the doors behind them and triple-checking the latch. The child in her arms still clung to her neck, her tiny fingers gripping tight enough to leave marks. Diamond handed her back to her mother gently, brushing a strand of hair from the girl’s tear-streaked cheek before stepping away.
She walked to the front of the truck, hands shaking slightly as she reached into the side compartment and pulled out her phone. She hit Nova’s number and held it to her ear. It rang once. Twice.
“Boss?” Nova answered on the third.
Diamond didn’t waste time. “We made it back to the garden,” she said. “The roses are blooming early this year.”
There was a pause. Just enough. Nova caught on. “Is that right?”
“Too early. Might need to trim the stems.”
Another beat.
“Alright. I’ll get the pruning shears,” Nova said. Her voice didn’t change, but Diamond knew she understood.Compromised. Burn it down. Rebuild.
Diamond lowered her voice, “Use theblueshears. Not the green ones.”
“Copy that.” Nova didn’t hesitate. “Give me ten.”
The call ended.
Diamond stared down at the phone in her hand, her reflection dim from the black screen.
Someone was listening. Not maybe. Not possibly. Someonewas in their system.She could feel it in her bones.
