I didn't go back to the clinic immediately.
Instead, I sat in that car for another two hours, parked on a dark street in Prague, staring at the photos on my phone again.
Sarah, who'd been with us from the beginning. Who'd found my mother. Who'd held my hand when my father died. Who'd promised to help me bring Brighton down is the same person, who'd been betraying us the entire time.
My first instinct was to drive back to the clinic, confront her, make her tell me everything.
But that would be stupid of me if I let know I know.
If I confronted her now, she'd know I'd been tracking her. She'd warn Brighton. And they'd both disappear before I could get any real answers.
No. I needed to be smarter than that.
I needed to figure out exactly how much information she'd fed to Brighton. What she knew. What she'd told him. What his plans were and I need to know if this had been from beginning or along the way.
And to do that, I needed to keep pretending I trusted her.
