It was Leo, the strategist, who came up with it. "We need to flip the script. They're watching us, right? So let's give them something to watch."
The plan was reckless. Dangerous. But it was all we had.
The next day, I walked home alone, taking the long way past the abandoned Reyes house. I made a show of it—lingering by the gate, peering into the overgrown garden, taking out my phone and pretending to take pictures. I was a terrible actor, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The black SUV crawled past. I didn't look directly at it.
Later, at the safe house, Leo was ecstatic. "It worked! They took the bait! I tapped into the town's traffic cam system near your house—don't ask how—and the SUV followed you. Then, after you left, two guys in suits got out. They went into the Reyes property. They're searching it!"
They thought we'd hidden the evidence there. While their attention was diverted, we could strike somewhere else.
But seeing them so brazenly violate Luna's old home made the threat terrifyingly real. These men weren't just sending notes; they were acting. We had poked a hornet's nest, and the hornets were now swarming.