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As they disappeared into the swirling activity, Finn exhaled a long breath, turning to Amelia.The air still carried the tang of smoke and char, but at least the worst was over.“So, I guess that’s it,” he murmured.
Amelia’s gaze was gentle.“Yes.The spree is done.Just wish I'd caught Wendell as well.”
Finn sighed.“Right.Another day, another manhunt.”Then his voice softened.“But for now, can we just take a moment?I’m exhausted.How does pizza sound?”
“Sounds good.”
She gave him a faint smile, leaning her head against his shoulder.
He let her guide him away from the chaos, her presence a steady warmth against the cold drizzle that had begun to fall.He glanced over his shoulder—firefighters still battling stubborn embers, more officers cordoning off the site.Another case closed, at least on the killer’s front.The forging ring might unravel further, but the murderer’s brush with The Great Fire of London had ended in the flames.
With that sobering thought, he let Amelia lead him to an ambulance, the future uncertain but at least for this moment, calm.They were alive, together.That was enough to hold onto, if only for one quiet night before the next storm.
EPILOGUE
Wendell Reed paced slowly through the basement of a decrepit, long-abandoned building.Faint moonlight filtered through a dust-coated window well, painting the cracked concrete floor in pale streaks.The air smelled of mildew, and every step kicked up a swirl of damp grit.Once or twice, a rat skittered in a corner, but Wendell hardly noticed.He had more pressing matters on his mind.
A battered wooden table stood at the center of the room, its surface cluttered with yellowed documents, photocopied files, and scribbled notes.Wendell ran a gloved fingertip across one sheet: the name Amelia Winters was typed in bold, followed by a brief mention of familial ties.He traced the lines of text carefully, letting each revelation sink in.
“She doesn’t know,” he muttered under his breath, voice echoing in the stillness.The file hinted at something Amelia had no clue about—a half-brother existing somewhere in the world, an older child from a secret relationship her mother had never discussed.Wendell’s lips twisted into a mirthless smile.
In the faint glow, he flipped another page, eyes narrowing at references to medical records, a birth certificate with the father’s name missing, but the mother’s name—Amelia’s mother—clearly legible.So that was the link.Amelia had a sibling, unbeknownst to her.
A bitter satisfaction rose in his chest.If Amelia thought she'd left Wendell's threats behind—she was wrong.The personal torment he had planned for her stretched further than she could imagine.He imagined the look on her face when she discovered the truth, only to learn that her half-brother—someone she never even realized existed—had met a tragic end at Wendell's hands.
He set the papers down, inhaling the staleness of the basement.No one would find him here, at least not soon.Already, the authorities thought they had him cornered somewhere else, focusing on his last known associates.They had no idea how far his web of vengeance extended.
No one witnessed his departure.The half-brother's fate—like so many secrets—was poised to become yet another weapon in Wendell's ongoing vendetta against Amelia Winters.And the seeds of that final torment were planted, waiting to ripen into destruction.