Page 39

Lark

M y fingers hovered over the keypad longer than I cared to admit.

It wasn’t fear, exactly. It was more like stepping into a place you’ve only heard about in stories—somewhere dark, hidden, pulsing with secrets.

But Axel was out there.

And if this Lena person could help, I didn’t have the luxury of hesitating.

I pressed call.

The line rang once.

Twice.

Then a voice—clear, female, sharp enough to cut steel.

“This number’s for emergencies only.”

I swallowed. “Is this Lena?”

Silence.

“Who’s asking?”

I hesitated, then said what Grandma Shirley told me to. “I’m Lark. Axel Martin’s… girl.”

Another pause. This one is heavier.

“Where are you?”

“Frasier Mountain. I got this number from someone who clearly moonlights as a spy and bakes very good cookies.”

“Grandma Shirley,” she said, not even pretending to be surprised.

“Yes.”

“What’s the emergency?”

“My sister Marley sent me a message. She said she was leaving Gaza. Told me to tell Axel ‘Fraiser says hi.’ That’s it.”

“Did she mention the data?”

“What data?”

A sigh. I could hear the click of keys, the rustle of someone pulling up files. “There’s a whistleblower report she smuggled out of Egypt. It connects several contractors and a U.S. defense liaison to arms trafficking and… other less public-friendly activities.”

“Other activities?”

“The kind that makes people disappear.”

My mouth went dry.

“She’s trying to leak it?”

“She’s trying to survive it. But if she’s already contacting you, it means she’s made the drop and is prepping for fallout.”

“And Axel?” I asked, heart thudding.

Lena’s voice softened just enough to scare me.

“He made contact with Bishop. They were supposed to extract Marley together. But something changed in the last 24 hours. The location she sent him to? It was not a safe zone.”

Panic flared. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying Marley might not be the one in trouble anymore.”

The line clicked.

Gone.

I lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dead screen, pulse roaring in my ears.

This wasn’t just about Marley.

Axel was off the grid—and not by choice. “Where was Fraiser? He went with Axel.”

I turned back toward Shirley’s kitchen.

“I need to get him back,” I said, not even realizing I’d spoken out loud.

Willa stood. “Then we’ll figure out how.”

“Willa, don’t you have to feed your goats?” Grandma Shirley said. Whose grandma was she anyway?

“Can I ask you a question? Whose grandma are you?”

She laughed. “I used to teach Sunday School, and all the kids called me Grandma Shirley. That was years ago, and they still call me Grandma Shirley. Unfortunately, Ed and I had no children of our own. He died in Vietnam, saving his team. I loved that man so much. I never met another one that I wanted to marry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That was a long time ago. Let’s find out where Axel is.”