"You should rest," Nia said softly.
"Not yet." Tessa refreshed her feeds. "People need to see this, all of it."
For the first time since morning, Nia felt hope pushing back against fear. The evidence was secure. Witnesses were speaking up. Federal authorities were moving. Whatever happened next, the conspirators had lost their grip on the narrative.
She checked her phone. Dozens of missed calls, hundreds of notifications, but one new message stood out. Lieutenant Cole: Need to meet urgently. Have final proof that will end this. Come alone.
Nia showed the text to Daniel. His expression darkened. "After everything today, he expects you to trust him?"
"He might be desperate enough to flip," Nia said. "If he has real evidence—"
"Or desperate enough to try removing you from the equation before morning," Daniel countered.
Nia stared at the message, weighing decades of corruption against the possibility of one man's conscience. The night stretched dark beyond Evelyn's windows, hours still to go before dawn brought whatever justice waited there.
At 1:30 in the morning, Nia checked her protective gear while Daniel prepared to accompany her. The streetlights cast long shadows across Evelyn's front yard. Too quiet. No cars, no dogs barking. Even the news vans had cleared out.
"I don't like this," Evelyn said, gripping Tessa's shoulders. "You stay here with the evidence copies. No arguments."
"But Mom—" Tessa clutched her laptop.
"Your mother's right," Daniel said, adjusting his earpiece. "If Cole's really flipping, we need you safe and monitoring communications."
Nia touched the family photo in her vest pocket. Her father in his dress uniform, smiling at her graduation. The same determination that had gotten her through the siege steadied her now.
"We'll meet Cole two blocks over. Ten minutes max."
"I've got neighbors watching every approach," Evelyn said. "First sign of trouble, we're calling everyone."
The night air felt thick and oppressive. Nia's combat instincts screamed danger as she and Daniel moved down the shadowed sidewalk. No crickets chirping, no distant traffic. Wrong.
The attack came without warning. Police SUVs shot out from three side streets, cutting off escape routes. Deputies in tactical gear poured onto the block shouting, "Protective detention!" and "Stand down!" Their movements were too coordinated, too rehearsed.
"Run!" Daniel shoved Nia toward a gap between houses.
A deputy tackled him from behind. Two more grabbed his arms.