Eliza's POV The plane touched down at JFK at noon. New York was gray, cold, the sky pressing down like a weight. Adam sat beside me, his hand on my knee. Across the aisle, Marcus stared out the window, his reflection tense. Reyes had stayed behind to handle Vera's interrogation, but she'd sent two agents to meet us at the bank. The vault was in a building on Wall Street. Old stone, brass doors, the kind of place where wealth had been hiding for centuries. I stood on the sidewalk, the key in my pocket, and tried to remember how to breathe. "You don't have to do this," Adam said. "I do." He took my hand. "Then let's go." The Bank The lobby was marble and silence. A woman in a tailored suit met us at the desk. "Ms. Sterling. We've been expecting you. Please follow me." She led us through a series of doors, each one heavier than the last.
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