The office lights hummed softly above Grace Ashcroft’s desk, casting pale reflections across the rows of photographs scattered in front of her. Five victims. All survivors of the 1998 Raccoon City outbreak. All dead. Grace stared at the newest photo for longer than she should have. The man’s expression was frozen somewhere between shock and recognition—like he had seen something he shouldn’t have. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Something about the pattern bothered her. Not the deaths themselves. But where the fifth body had been found. Wrenwood Hotel. Grace felt the air leave her lungs. Eight years had passed, yet the name still struck her like a physical blow. The place where her mother died.