Sienna's P.O.V.

Roman waited until after dinner to ask. Actually ask. Progress was getting annoying. I was walking back toward the guest wing when he stepped out of the side hall.

"Sienna."

I stopped. He stayed six feet away.

"Can we talk?"

"About?"

"Something I did."

T

Kai's P.O.V.

Sienna gave me exactly three permissions. One: help her recover one old email account. Two: compare it against my local message archive. Three: tell her what was missing without deciding why it was missing. The third one was the hard part. Not technically. Pe

Zane's P.O.V.

I knew she was alive. That should have been enough to make walking into the compound easy. It wasn't. I had seven envelopes in my duffel and ten years of excuses in my throat. The front gate opened. Judge was waiting near the clubhouse steps. So was Ghost. Nei