“Interesting last name,” Jim said.

“Is he related to Greg Feldman?”

“I don’t know,” Jim said.

“Nick showed up right after Greg was killed, he involved himself in the investigation, and he has the same last name. When this is over, I need you to find out if Greg Feldman had a younger brother or a son.” Because that would just be the cherry on the bloody sundae of the past twenty-four hours.

“Likely a brother. Greg was about forty when he died,” Jim said.

“No, Greg looked about forty. He looked like that for the last fifteen years I knew him. Who did you send to North Carolina?”

“A unit with three renders and our two best trackers. They’ll find him, Kate. No worries.”

If they didn’t, I would. I would look for Curran and I would not stop.

“I’ve got this from here,” Jim said. “Rest. I’ll send Doolittle up.”

Last time I checked, the good doctor was still in a wheelchair. It would be a lot easier for me to go down the stairs than for him to come up. “Not now. There are three sick people downstairs. He’ll be busy for a bit anyway.”

I still didn’t know if they would live or die.

Jim rose and leaned on the table, closing the distance between me and him. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” I felt like hell. I felt like I had walked through it, wading through blood and dragging a giant rock behind me.

“Go upstairs, take a shower, and sleep. You pulled us out of the quicksand. We’ve got a fighting chance now. You earned an hour of sleep.”

I forced the words out. My voice was hoarse. “A whole hour, oh boy!”

“An hour, then I’m sending Doolittle up. I need you to be at the top of your game. Go,” Jim said. “I’ll wake you up if the sky starts falling.”

He left.

I sat alone in the chair. I felt completely empty, like someone had drained me of all anxiety, fear, and anger. It was still there, simmering under the surface, but fatigue had taken over.

I was so tired. My God, I was so, so tired.

I covered my face and waited for the tears. I’d brought this on us. It would’ve happened eventually. The Pack had grown and Roland wanted to limit its power. But my presence had accelerated the process. I had watched as the entire Atlanta chapter of the Order was slaughtered. I wanted to cry just to let the pain bleed out of me, but my eyes were dry.

I would’ve given anything to have Curran walk through the door behind me. I could imagine him doing it. He would walk in, put his arms around me, and it would all be better.

I stared at the door.

Please walk through it. Please.

The door remained shut.