One name came to mind: Nathan. A friend in college who was an ethical hacker and majoring in software development. She dialed, breath catching, and launched into the story—Juniper’s disappearance, the fake adoption, the dead leads. “I know it’s crazy,” she said. “But can you help me find the address linked to this license plate?”
Nathan was quiet for a beat. Then: “Send it over. I’ll see what I can dig up.” Gabby did. Then she waited—fidgeting, refreshing her phone, pacing the hallway like a ghost. Hours passed like slow-burning candles. Finally, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Nathan.