Shadow of Grace

SHADOW OF GRACE A WILLOW GRACE FBI THRILLER BOOK 1 ANYA MORA LIQUID MIND PUBLISHING Copyright 2023 Anya Mora All rights reserved. Liquid Mind Publishing This work may not be duplicated, redistributed or exchanged without permission granted by author Anya Mora. This work is entirely fiction. Characters, names, places, media, brands and incidents are purely a product of the author’s imagination. Author Anya Mora acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of products and brands mentioned in this fictional story. The author is in no way associated with nor sponsored by any brand mentioned within this book. CONTENTS Also by Anya Mora 1. Kevin Talbot 2. Willow Grace 3. Robert Howie 4. Paxton Holt 5. Willow Grace 6. Paxton Holt 7. Willow Grace 8. Paxton Holt 9. Willow Grace 10. Paxton Holt 11. Benjamin Shaw 12. Willow Grace 13. Willow Grace 14. Paxton Holt 15. Willow Grace 16. Paxton Holt 17. Deputy Howie 18. Willow Grace 19. Paxton Holt 20. Willow Grace 21. Willow Grace 22. Willow Grace 23. Paxton Holt 24. Willow Grace 25. Paxton Holt 26. Benjamin Shaw 27. Willow Grace 28. Willow Grace 29. Paxton Holt 30. Willow Grace 31. Paxton Holt 32. Willow Grace 33. Willow Grace 34. Megan Talbot 35. Paxton Holt 36. Willow Grace 37. Paxton Holt 38. Willow Grace 39. Megan Talbot 40. Paxton Holt 41. Megan Talbot 42. Willow Grace Condition of Grace Chapter 1 Condition of Grace Chapter 2 Condition of Grace Chapter 3 Also by Anya Mora Also by Without Warrant About the Author ALSO BY ANYA MORA Willow Grace FBI Thrillers Shadow of Grace Condition of Grace (Coming Soon) A Gray West Mystery Series The Sister Wife’s Secret The Sister Wife’s Search The Sister Wife’s Husband The Sister Wife’s Daughter Stand Alone Novels in A Liars Island Suspense Series Ransom Road Gold Digger Grove 1 KEVIN TALBOT My little sister has been my whole world, and right now I have one job — keeping her safe. She’s the only thing I care about. The only thing I've cared about for as long as I can remember. Megan’s long blonde hair reaches her waist, the ringlets always tangled, leaves caught in the tangles. Milk chocolate eyes, big as a doe’s. Cheeks that are round and rosy, and fingernails that are always caked in dirt from playing outside with the other children. I haven't been the best big brother for the last seven years. I couldn’t protect her when the people came for us, snatching us away from our mother. Because of that, we’ve been kept here in this compound, and I’ve never found a way out. Until tonight. I've fought to protect her, to make sure she has what she needs. But of course, she hasn't had everything she deserves. I am just a seventeen-year-old boy, and she's a ten-year-old girl, and we live in a world where other people hold all the power, where they're playing a game we don't even understand. I've tried my best to figure out the rules, to stay one step ahead. And finally, at long last, I made a move. "Kev, I'm scared. It's so dark," Megan sobs, her voice a whimper in the wind. It's September in Olympia, Washington. Where we are in relation to the capital, I'm not exactly sure, but I need to get us there. I know the property where we've been living for the last seven years is tucked away in the woods, deep in the forest. The only reason I know we are on the outskirts of Olympia is because the night we were taken, I saw signs on the highway. I memorized them because I knew something was very wrong. I knew we wouldn’t be returning to our mom in Seattle. That night, in the big white van, Megan was sleeping, oblivious to the danger ahead, tucked under my arm, a flimsy wing of protection. It was all I could offer; I would have given her the world, even then. I want to wrap her in my arms right now and carry her across these trails. I don't want her to slip and fall. But carrying her will slow us both down. Instead, I grip her hand tight. "We've got this," I say. "We're going to be okay." My words, though, lift to the sky, floating away as fast as I say them. It's impossible to know if I can keep that promise. Will we be okay? For her, I pray we will. "Where are we going, Kev?" she asks, her voice so soft, so scared. It breaks my heart. I've never been one of those guys who was tough or ruthless. I've been a different kind of brave. The silent type – I keep my head down. I watch, I listen, I do my best to take care of those I love. To take care of her. "I know we're going to be okay because life's been so hard for so long, there has to be another way," I tell her. My words feel so stilted, so unsure, and I hate that about myself. I wish I was more confident. "I will always trust you," she tells me. Those five words buoy my heart in a way she doesn't understand. Megan is stronger than me, I know that for certain. She's tough. The dirt in her nail beds prove it. She's got grit. That girl, she's got determination. I wish I were more like her. It's so dark out, and my foot snags on a fallen branch. "Shit," I grunt under my breath. Megan tenses, and I know why. That word is forbidden. Just like so many others. The last seven years of our life have been about following a doctrine that is heavy-handed and physically enforced. Children have no voice, especially not a voice that uses crude language. They say we live in harmony – but I know better. For men like Father Benjamin, harmony is another word for control. "Sorry," I mutter. "It's okay,