HIS STOLEN PRIDE
Lucia set down her laptop, hesitated, then said, “You should know… I kept scanning the old frequencies. The ones tied to his codes.”
Elena looked up sharply. “And?”
Lucia bit her lip. “Most are quiet. But one—just one—pinged last night.”
Elena’s pulse quickened. “Where?”
“Far east. Somewhere in the Caucasus. Could be residual, could be nothing.”
Elena smiled sadly. “Or could be him.”
Lucia sighed. “You’ll never stop hoping, will you?”
“No,” Elena said simply. “Because hope’s the only thing they never managed to program out of us.”
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