Page 37 of Faron (The Golden Team #8)

Blue

I wasn’t supposed to be out of bed.

And I sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be dragging my IV pole like a petulant toddler on wheels.

But I couldn’t sit still. Not with those words echoing in my skull— there’s a list .

I barely made it to the hallway before Faron caught me. He looked exhausted. Hair a mess. Eyes wild. Protective fury simmering just under the surface.

“Back in bed. Now.”

“No.” My voice didn’t shake. “I need to see it. You said Diego had a list.”

“Blue—”

“I’m not a child. I’m not breakable. I’ve treated cartel victims since before I met you. If I’m on that list, I deserve to know who else is.”

He stared at me for a beat too long. Then, quietly, he sighed and took my arm.

“Alright. But you sit down first.”

He led me to the breakroom, dim and quiet. Pulled up River’s encrypted file.

Names. Pictures. Notes.

Some were marked with red X’s.

“They’re not just threatening people,” Faron said. “They’re eliminating them. One by one.”

I scrolled. A pastor. A paramedic. A librarian running literacy nights for teens.

And then—my hand froze.

“No,” I whispered. “That’s… that’s Dr. Kline.”

Faron leaned in. “You know her?”

“She trained me. She runs a mobile trauma unit a few miles from here.”

Her name was circled. Marked urgent.

“We need to warn her,” I said.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Then you go. Call River. Call whoever you need. But you get to her before they do. Faron—this isn’t about me anymore. This is war.”