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Logan.

It was just our luck that when we drove to Sharon's house the next morning, she and Audrey had already gone to Europe.

I asked Harry again, what exactly Brian said. The same Brian who so conveniently dropped off the flash drive apparently an hour after Sharon had landed across the globe.

"He said she didn't know," He snaps, apparently annoyed with my constant questioning. I just didn't understand it.

Harry dials Liz's number, standing to his feet from the couch and stalking to the kitchen. I hear him angrily tell her that Sharon had left, and I hear muffled screams from her end. She didn't know either. The only person she seemed to tell was her next-door neighbor, who recognized Harry when he'd been banging on the front door.

Inhaling a deep breath, I take out my phone and send a text to update China, which is funny because there was no fucking update. We were just as confused as we were this morning. It was beyond me how Harry managed to keep his cool as well as he did. While he gave me the occasional snarky comment or hand through his hair, it was nothing compared to the way my chest felt like someone was tap dancing on it with steel toe boots.

The question lingered in the back of my head, the one I knew Harry secreteely was waiting on me to ask; Are you going to turn her in?

I know Sharon was in Europe but I don't think this was merely coincidence. She had to know Brian gave us the drive and if she did, that meant that Brian was lying to us. It was difficult- determining who to trust- but as far as I knew, it was only Harry. I could only trust him.

Harry hangs up with Liz and comes back into the living room, where I'm standing at his sliding door, looking down onto the parking lot. It rained last night, the sun had dried it all up and left the pavement clear.

"Liz is trying to get a hold of her now." He tells me through a defeated breath.

"Did you tell her what happened?"

"No, just that I really needed to talk to her. She's so busy foaming at the mouth at the fact that she'd left to begin with."

I nod, and Harry comes next to me at the window, looking straight down. It seems to have the same effect on him as it does on me, seeing that he visibly relaxes. I wish I could ease this situation for him, stop his middle finger from twitching the way it does when I know he's upset, or stop his hand from running through his hair so much that it's now a disheveled mess. But I can't. I know he needs space and cooperation from me in these moments. The last thing I want to do is overstep his boundaries.

"I need to talk to Soto."

"Huh," I turn to him with furrowed brows. He looks back at me, swallowing and shaking his head like it's the last thing he wants to do as well.

"I have to. He knows. I spoke to Brian already, mum is gone, Kenneth doesn't know shit as it is. I need Soto. He's the fuckin' genius behind this, anyway."

I nod, taking in his words while trying to imagine exactly how that conversation would go. He'd need some type of clearance to talk to Soto. And then Soto would have to actually want to talk to him. What if he doesn't cooperate?

Regardless, I agree.

I didn't plan on staying two days at Harry's, so I'm left wearing a pair of his sweats with a tight fitted crop top I'd had here some time ago. I toss my hair up into a ponytail and follow Harry out of the door. The ride to the prison takes the better part of thirty minutes, leaving Harry and I going over what he'd say to Soto and how he wanted me to stay in the car while he spoke.

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