Page 32 of Devlin

“Yeah?”

“You doing okay?”

Devlin exhaled, rubbing a hand over his head. He had given Logan the heads-up about what he was facing here. “I’m managing. At least she can talk to me without wanting to kill me. I think.”

Frazier’s laugh was warm. “You got this. No matter what happens with Mia, you’ll be all right.”

“Thanks,” Devlin muttered before ending the call.

He stared at his phone, rolling his shoulders. Frazier was right—he had the mission. But he also had something more. The possibility of Mia. And that, more than anything, was the fight worth winning.

He looked over and spied Alain making his way toward him. Devlin nodded, saying, “I’m sorry you had to track us down here.”

Alain grinned broadly. “I am used to walking. Since I oversee the medical nurses for each village, this is a good place for me to start today.”

“Mia is inside. I’d like for her to be with us if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Alain said.

While Todd and Cole remained with Alain, Devlin jogged back into the building, his sharp gaze scanning the throng of workers. His eyes locked onto Mia’s, and she moved toward him without hesitation, curiosity flickering across her face.

"Hey, what’s up?"

"I know you’re busy, but I have Alain. He has some information for us, and I’d like you to hear it."

Her initial confusion shifted into interest, and she nodded. Without thinking, Devlin placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the organized chaos of the warehouse. They maneuvered around wooden crates stacked high and reed baskets filled with supplies. Even through the thick air filled with the scent of grains and earth, the barest touch of his fingers against her back sent a familiar, electric tingle through him. After all these years, something as simple as touch still carried the weight of memory.

When they reached Alain, standing beneath the shade of a towering tree, Devlin forced himself to pull his hand away, but he immediately missed the contact.

“Alain,” Mia greeted warmly, offering him a smile. “It’s nice to see you. I talk to your wife and children when they head to school.”

Alain returned her smile, and Devlin once again noted Mia’s unique ability to make people feel seen. She never simply greeted someone—she made them feel important as if their presence truly mattered.

“And I see you are busy as always,” Alain replied.

Mia laughed, a soft, cheerful sound that made Devlin’s chest tighten. “I imagine you could say the same about the clinics.”

“You are right. People will always need food and medical care, which is why we are here.”

Mia glanced up at Devlin, and without a word, he knew she was silently signaling him to take the lead. He turned to Alain. “Jonan told me you have information about the black market.”

Alain’s easy smile faded, his expression darkening. “Yes, I’m sorry to say. When I worked in the hospital in Congo treating insurgents, it was not hard to notice that while the Congolese people starved, the insurgents had food. It was even brought into the hospital for their use.” His voice dropped lower, burdened by the weight of his memories. “It was even offered to us—the medical staff treating them.”

His face contorted as if remembering left a bitter taste. “As a healer, I took a vow to help anyone in need. But as a Congolese, it broke my heart to know that the food I was eating had been stolen, given to men who would leave the hospital only to continue their killing spree.”

Mia reached out and gently laid her hand on Alain’s arm, a gesture of quiet understanding. “We can only be responsible for the choices we make, Alain. There are times we can influenceothers and guide them to do the right thing, but sometimes all we can do is mitigate the damage. Your job was to heal, and you did. You followed your calling, and you protected your family. That is what matters.”

Tears glistened in Alain’s eyes as he stared at Mia, as though absorbing her words into the very marrow of his bones. Devlin held his breath, recognizing the moment for what it was—one of Mia’s gifts. He had seen it before, so many times, watching her offer comfort with a single touch, a single word. And now, standing beside her, he was struck all over again by just how remarkable she was.

His gaze lingered on her, the pull of old emotions swirling within him, mingling with something new. She had once loved him with all her heart, and the thought of earning back that love consumed him.

Realizing Mia and Alain waited for him, he cleared his throat and refocused. “Alain, what information do you have for us now?”

Alain exhaled heavily. “The black market for food that feeds the insurgents in the Congo mostly comes from Uganda. The reason is simple—Uganda takes in refugees freely, and the smugglers take advantage of the aid coming into the country. The theft happens at every level.”

“Can you give specifics?” Cole asked.

“Some steal directly from the farmers, raiding fields, selling crops at high prices, and smuggling them across the border. Others divert food meant for the refugee camps before it even reaches its destination. And then there are the warehouses—raided or bribed officials letting trucks through without questions.”

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