Chapter Five
The trip back from Istanbul took longer than it should have, connections that never quite aligned. Matt let it happen. Airports connections rarely went smooth. He caught with up with Carrisa after his brief absence. She didn’t inquire about it. He slept in fragments, ate when food appeared, and thought about his time with Petra more than he would’ve admitted.
It wasn’t just her beauty, though that lingered easily. It was her intelligence. The way she listened without performing interest. The absence of urgency in her attention. A few days, unstructured and carefree, something abnormal for Matt. Yet it was welcomed and felt comfortable.
When the plane finally touched down in Richmond, he felt the familiar shift. He returned home to rhythm normal rhythm.
He dropped his bag just inside the door, stripped out of travel clothes without hesitation, and fed them into the washing machine before fatigue could make a case. The house smelled faintly of stillness. He opened windows. Unpacked and repacked with intent. A short list began forming without needing to be written. He cooked something simple, ate standing up, and turned on the television more from habit than interest.
The image stopped him mid-motion.
A children’s hospital surrounded in smoke. Sirens layered until they flattened into noise. The anchor’s voice tightened as details came in about the event.
A device. Placed deliberately and for effect. This was not an accident and the purpose, other than terror, was unknown.
Matt sat down.
He watched without blinking as the camera panned the damage as first responders tried to bring it in control. It did not take out the entire hospital and appeared it was deliberately placed or a malfunction occurred.
He stood before the segment ended.
The decision didn’t announce itself. It never did. He turned off the television, moved through the house once more, and packed what he needed without excess. He locked up, reloaded the BMW, and pointed it toward Echo Lake.
The lake house would be quiet. Space without isolation. That mattered now.
As the engine settled into the highway, Matt made the call.
Carissa answered on the second ring.
“I saw it,” she said, before he could speak.
“So did I,” Matt replied.
They didn’t discuss conclusions. They didn’t need to. He told her where he was headed. She told him what she was already pulling, and it looked deliberate in intent. Focused on a specific area and not a malfunction that would have resulted in more destruction. The conversation stayed narrow, controlled, built around what was known and what would need time.
When the call ended, Matt kept driving. The road unwinding ahead with patient indifference.
The image of the hospital stayed fixed—not the smoke, not the sirens, but the certainty that whoever had done it understood exactly what they were doing.
And had chosen it anyway.