Foralongmoment,Luciansaidnothing.

        Thenewshitlikeapunchtothegut.

        Reya.Hetriedtoreconcilethegirlheknewwithwhathe''djustheard,butthepiecesdidn''tfit.Eventhoughshewaslegallyanadult,inhismindshewasstillthatquiet,wide-eyedchildclingingtohissleevewheneverthundershookthewindows.

        Alltheseyears,she''dnevermentionedanyboys.Noschoolcrushes,nolate-nightphonecalls,nohalf-heartedliesaboutdatingorevenafavoredcelebrity.Iftherehadbeensomeoneinherlife,surelyitwouldn''thavebeensomeonelikeJulian.

        Lucianknewbetterthantocastjudgmentonthedead.Butinthismoment,logicgavewaytosomethingfarmoreprimal.

        Hewasn''tjustapolicecaptainfacinganunfoldingcase.

        Hewasamanstrugglingtoacceptthepossibilitythatthegirlhehadsworntoprotectmighthavebeenhurt—used—bysomeonewhoshouldneverhavebeennearherinthefirstplace.

        Theragethatroseinhimhadnothingtodowithduty,andeverythingtodowithlove.

        "Anysignsofastruggle?"Lucianasked.

        "Notexactly,"Brianreplied.

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