After hours of officials swarming the secluded office building off the San Francisco shoreline, feeling hollow and stunned, Kara sat in the back seat of a van. Blake was beside her, practically attached to her side, acting like he’d never let her go again. And she needed that. She needed him. Without Blake, she wouldn’t even be sitting upright, trying to survive.

“Send it to my phone,” Kyle said and ended a call, punching a button on his cell and watching something on the screen.

“You okay?” Blake asked.

Kara teased a strand of his hair, wishing she could wash the torment from his eyes. It had killed him to think she might be dead. Like losing Myla was killing her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Because of you.”

“You need to see something,” Kyle said, moving to squat in front of them.

“When you say that it’s never good,” Blake said grumpily. “Not now.”

“This time it’s good,” Kyle insisted.

“Nothing can be good right now, Kyle,” Kara said, and when she thought she was done crying, her eyes burned all over again.

“Watch this,” Kyle insisted, shoving his phone at her and Blake.

“Kyle…” Blake started.

“Just watch,” Kyle repeated.

Blake grimaced and punched the “play” button. An image of Alvarez climbing into a car had Kara sitting up straighter, her heart racing as Myla appeared behind him and paused to glance up at the flame-filled sky. She whispered something Kara couldn’t make out and disappeared into the car. “Oh my God,” Kara murmured as the screen went blank, her gaze lifting to Kyle’s. “She’s alive? Myla’s alive?”

“She’s alive,” Kyle assured her. “The explosion was a setup to make us think she and Alvarez were dead.”

“How’d you get this?” Kara asked.

“As soon as we arrived,” he explained, “I set up surveillance and one of the cameras wouldn’t download. Luke just got it to roll.”

Kara looked at Blake, a new kind of pain filling her. “What is it?” he asked, stroking her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s not a prisoner.” It hurt her heart to say it out loud. “Myla’s with Alvarez by choice. She told me she loves him. She’s alive, but I’ve still lost her.”

“No,” he said. “He’s brainwashed her. We’ll get her back.” He slid a hand to her neck and rested his forehead against hers. “You and me, sweetheart. We’ll find a way.”

***

The ringing of a cell phone pierced the silence of the dark hotel room and beside her, Blake groaned and reached for it on the nightstand. Two days had passed since she last saw Myla, and every clue to finding her again had come up empty. It was as if her sister and Alvarez had really died in that crash.