Minutes later, sirens wailed in the distance. Red and blue lights splashed against the walls of the safe house as armed agents stormed inside. They reached the safe room, guns drawn, ready for a fight. But the fight was already over. They found Jordan’s body sprawled in blood, her face pale, her eyes closed as if in uneasy sleep. The panic alarm still blinked faintly on the wall. The wrench lay nearby, soaked in crimson. “Jesus Christ…” one agent whispered, lowering his weapon. Another checked her pulse, though they all knew the truth. He shook his head slowly. Too late. Brian Taylor was gone. And Jordan Taylor — daughter, survivor, victim — was lost forever. Only silence remained.