For three years they called me a freak—and I stayed silent—until they touched my little sister in front of everyone, and the truth I buried finally came out and changed everything.

But this silent, aggressive breach bore the unmistakable, terrifying signature of the old organization—the black sedan I had spotted lurking near the school parking lot. They hadn’t waited for the legal system to process my sudden exposure in the schoolyard; they had moved immediately to liquidate my sanctuary. They knew exactly where I lived, they continue reading …