Nicos spread the shipping logs across his knees like a map he’d spent a lifetime learning to hate. The laptop’s flat glow bathed us in a pallid honesty—tired but unflinching. He scrolled and tapped as though each keystroke were a punch in the gut. Dates piled up like nasty debts, ports repeated as if echoing our forgotten sins, and flags on the screen promised lies wrapped up in neat corporate lawsuits.“Here,” he said, his voice as clipped as a bank teller’s, and the line on the screen offered a poetic name: NOVAZENE LLC. Wilmington, Delaware. Just another subsidiary of a subsidiary stashed away in a trust with a name that sounded like a Florida golf club. The same wire routes that fed those shabby clinic shells, the same batch code—Δ-12—and the notes column, ever cryptic, declared odd “biological consumables.” A message as cold and final as a price on one’s ruined life.“Uh-huh. It’s Lucia’s paper trail,” I said, letting the words hang in the stale air.“She likes American mannerism
最終更新日 : 2025-11-16 続きを読む