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“Angel—” Ghost started.

“No. I checked,” she insisted.

Jackhammer frowned. “How?”

“I went to his grave the next morning,” she said.

“You opened his grave?” Ghost asked.

“No. The cemetery records showed no disturbance, and the groundskeeper swore nobody had touched it,” she said.

Ghost stared at her. “So either Viper wasn't buried wearing that ring⁠—”

“He was,” she interrupted.

“Or there was another ring,” he said.

Angel nodded. “That was my conclusion, too.”

“So he was holding a copy of your father’s ring?” Jackhammer said.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Why would someone go to the trouble of making a copy?” Hammer asked.

“I don't know.” That was the lie—a big one. Ghost watched her for several seconds, but Angel forced herself not to look away. She could tell that he knew she wasn’t being honest with them. He probably didn’t know what she was hiding, but he knew there was more.

“Why did the club blame you?” Jackhammer asked.

“Because they found me with Gabriel's body,” she breathed.

“That isn't enough to prove that you’re guilty,” Hammer said.

“No, it’s not,” she agreed.

“What else did they find?” Ghost asked.

Angel hesitated. “His gun was in my hand.” Ghost swore under his breath. “I picked it up. I heard something behind me, and I panicked. When the Nomad Knights arrived, I was kneeling beside Gabriel holding the murder weapon.”

Jackhammer stared at her. “Someone shot him with his own weapon?”

“Yes,” she said. “He was killed with his own gun.”

“And they left it after they shot him?” Hammer asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Ghost shook his head. “That's a setup.”

“Congratulations. You figured out in five minutes what the Nomad Knights couldn't figure out in seven years,” she spat.

“Or they didn't want to figure it out,” Ghost said. Angel looked at him. That was exactly what had haunted her for the past seven years. Her father had been murdered, and six months later, Gabriel had been executed. Then someone had gone out of their way to make Angel look responsible. She'd spent seven years asking the same question—why?

Jackhammer's hand slid from her shoulder down her arm. “You ran.”

“I didn't have a choice,” she admitted.

“You could've stayed and fought,” he said.