The following morning, under the protection of two armed federal marshals, Maya, Celeste, and Ethan drove north through the Hudson Valley to an unpretentious two-story colonial home in the quiet suburbs of Albany. The ground was covered with a fresh blanket of white snow, and smoke curled peacefully from the brick chimney. The front door opened to reveal Sarah Lindqvist, a woman of forty-five with kind, tired gray eyes and…
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