Page 116 of The Last Morgan

“Who told you this?” Byron asked, his voice sharp from the corner where he sat.

Jimmy’s face turned pale. “If I tell you, I’m dead. He’s listening. He always is.”

Byron leaned forward. “Then you might as well spill. You’re fucked either way.”

Jimmy paused. “Will you protect me?”

Lucy gave him a sweet smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “Of course, Jimmy. I’ll protect you.”

He sighed in relief, swallowing hard. “It’s your uncle.”

Corey stiffened. “What?”

“I was part of the elimination team,” Jimmy said, voice shaky. “We went to a village— One your parents discovered. We killed them. All of them. But something went wrong. Their bodies turned to mist, we realized to late, whatever we were trying to get… it died with them.”

He looked up, frantic now. “So your dad ran. He took whatever was left. We assumed he had the real samples, or data, something. That’s why your uncle got close. Took over the business. Waited for you to come back and open the right door.”

Lucy shook her head. “But I didn’t find anything.”

“Then maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” Jimmy snapped. “Maybe you still haven’t.”

Lucy’s eyes turned steel. “Just keep your promise,” Jimmy said, leaning back smugly.

Without warning, Lucy turned to Corey and grabbed his gun before he could react.

“Lucy—” he started.

Bang.

Jimmy slumped forward, a clean hole in his forehead.

“You dumb bitch,” Lucy muttered. “You killed my parents, my brothers… and thought I’d protect you?”

She tossed the gun back to Corey without looking. “Let’s find my uncle,” she said, voice calm, cold.

Lucy reached the dining room and dropped herself into the main chair. She stared down at the polished surface like it held the answers to all the chaos in her head. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears.

“We need to find my uncle,” she said aloud, more to herself than anyone. Her voice was hoarse, but sharp. “I knew something was off. The moment he moved his family out of here and into a hotel—he was running.”

Barnaby, now stood in the doorway, clutching his tablet. He blinked, then spoke cautiously.

“You want me to track him?”

“Yes.” Lucy’s eyes flicked up. “Find the hotel he checked them into. Name. Location. Room numbers if possible. I want them all brought here.”

Barnaby nodded, fingers already dancing across his screen. “Give me a second... okay, they’re staying at The Ashfield Grand. A completely different state! High security. I’m guessing your aunt didn’t book it.”

“Of course not,” Lucy sneered. “He did. He’s trying to make sure we don’t connect him to what just happened.”

She turned into the hallway, shouting over her shoulder. “Get the Doves.”

Two of them were already on standby, one of them was Ethan, his jet-black hair still damp from the rain earlier. They stepped forward without question.

“Go to The Ashfield Grand. Bring my uncle and every single member of that family here. I don’t care if you have to carry them kicking and screaming. Do not hurt the kids or Lillian, if she resists—sedate her. I want them here by this evening.”

The Doves didn’t blink. Ethan gave a brief nod and disappeared like a phantom with his partner.

“Lucy…” Byron approached from behind her. His voice was quieter now, cautious. “You okay?”