Page 53 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

S outh Lancaster looked the same as it had the last time I’d seen it—hot, sun-bleached, and tired.

The buildings sagged under years of neglect, the air carrying the smell of dust and asphalt. The children’s home sat at the end of a cracked side street, a faded mural of handprints peeling away from the stucco walls.

It hit me like a gut punch.

Same crooked swing set out front. Same rusted chain-link fence with the latch that never stayed closed.

The only thing that had changed was me.

The Golden Team had arrived an hour ahead of us, blending into the neighborhood like they’d been born here. River was posted on the front porch with his rifle slung casual but ready. Gideon’s SUV idled at the curb, back doors open as kids with backpacks were ushered inside.

“Four down, three to go,” Raven said into his Radio as we pulled in.

Kaylie climbed out of the truck beside me, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. One of the older girls from the home—barely sixteen—gave her a quick smile before helping a younger boy with his bag. I saw Kaylie’s shoulders ease, just a little.

Tag was already moving, talking with Gage and Faron about security routes. “Two trucks will run south,” Gage was saying. “One decoy, one carrying the real passengers. We split Sable’s attention if she’s in the area.”

“She’s in the area,” I muttered.

Tag glanced at me. “You feel it too?”

I nodded, scanning the rooftops. No movement. No glint of glass. But my gut told me she was out there. Watching.

Inside, I found Marley—the home’s director—directing the last of the packing. Her voice was calm, but her hands trembled. “You really think someone would come here?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “And we’re not going to let it happen.”

She looked past me to Kaylie. “She yours?”

“In a way,” I said. “She’s family now.”

We got the last three kids into the SUVs. Kaylie climbed in with them, wedged between two sisters holding hands. The relief in her face almost undid me.

Outside, the team tightened formation. River and Raven took point in the lead SUV, Faron and Gage flanking the convoy. Tag and I stayed in the tail vehicle, eyes everywhere.

“Convoy is moving,” Gideon’s voice came over the comm.

The engines rumbled to life, rolling slow down the narrow street. My pulse eased—just for a second—until I caught it.

A shimmer on a rooftop two blocks over.

Not sunlight.

Glass.

“Tag,” I said quietly. “We’ve got company.”

His jaw flexed, eyes following mine. “She’s here.”