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chapter 61

The window didn't just break. It exploded.Glass came in like a wave — sharp and fast, silent for one impossible second before the noise followed. Nyla was already moving. She grabbed Elena's arm and pulled, hard, before her brain had finished deciding what to do."Down!"They hit the floor together. A second shot punched through the wall above them. The table beside Elena erupted. Hot coffee sprayed across the tiles."Kitchen," Elena gasped. "Go."Nyla didn't wait. She kept her head low and moved — pulling Elena with her — past overturned chairs, past the screaming of other customers scrambling in every direction. A waiter was pressed flat against the back wall. He caught her eye for half a second and pointed. Back door.They crawled the last ten feet.The kitchen was loud with panic. Pots rattling. A woman crying somewhere she couldn't see. Someone had already shoved the fire exit open, and cold air came rushing in like it had been waiting. Nyla pushed Elena through first.The alley

Chapter 62

Nyla stayed on the ground and shielded Elena with her body. The headlights came closer.The car stopped six feet away.The driver's door opened.Cameron.He was across the alley in four strides. He dropped to one knee beside them and scanned Elena first — then Nyla's face."Are you hit?""No. She is. Her arm."He pressed his own hand over Nyla's and applied more pressure. "How long has she been unconscious?""Two minutes. Maybe less."He was already on his phone with his other hand. One call. Short. "Emergency. I need an ETA." He gave the cross streets and hung up. "Ambulance is four minutes out. My car is faster. Can she be moved?""We have to move. Robert's people were in front of the café.""I know. Tobias is monitoring. There are two vehicles on the main road." He looked at Elena and made a decision. "We move her."They got Elena into the backseat. Nyla climbed in beside her and kept both hands on the wound. Cameron was in the front and reversing out of the alley before the door w

CHAPTER 63

Tobias's message was still open on Cameron's phone when they finally left the hospital just after two in the morning.The ride back was quiet. Nyla sat in the passenger seat with Elena's key held loose in one hand, watching the city thin out around them. She was tired in a way that had gone past feeling tired. Everything seemed slightly slower than it should be."Tell me about Victor Harmon," she said.Cameron didn't answer immediately. That in itself told her something."Where did you hear that name?" he said."You saw the message. Tobias said the shooter's employer has significantly more resources than Robert.""Tobias didn't name anyone yet.""No. But your face did." She turned to look at him. "So tell me."He told her what he knew, which wasn't everything, but it was enough.Victor Harmon. Sixty-one years old. Founder of Harmon Capital Group — investments, real estate, a handful of technology firms. Publicly, he was the kind of man who got quoted in financial newspapers and gave s

chapter 64

Neither of them slept.By four in the morning, the coffee was gone and the kitchen table had become something else — a map of the past two days, reconstructed in reverse. Cameron had a notepad. Nyla had her memory, which had always been sharper than she let people know."Alright," Cameron said. He put his pen down flat. "Who knew about the café meeting with Elena?"She had already been thinking about it. She'd been thinking about nothing else since she read the message."I told you," she said."Yes.""I told Tobias, because he handles my security schedule.""Yes.""I told my father, because he was asking about Elena and I didn't want him to worry about where I was going alone."She paused. Cameron waited."And I told Diane." She said the name carefully. Diane. Her personal assistant. Twenty-six years old, organised to the point of compulsion, had worked for her for just over a year. "She manages my calendar. I asked her to block the time and not schedule anything around it."Cameron w

CHAPTER 65

Tobias found her before noon.A motel forty minutes outside the city. The kind of place that didn't ask questions at check-in and accepted cash without comment. Room fourteen. Ground floor. Curtains closed.Nyla and Cameron made the drive without much conversation. She watched the city give way to highway and then to something quieter — flat land, empty lots, a petrol station that looked like it hadn't changed in thirty years.She kept thinking about the cat.That was the detail she couldn't shake. Diane had packed in a hurry and left her cat behind. That told Nyla something important — either Diane had panicked so badly that she forgot, or she had left so fast she didn't have time to think. Neither option made her feel better.Tobias was already parked outside when they arrived. He gave them a short nod."She's inside. Door's unlocked. She knows we're coming." He paused. "She's been crying since I knocked."Nyla went in first.The room was small and dim. A bed, a chair, a television

Chapter 66

She didn't tell Cameron what was in the journals on the drive back. She told herself it was because the timing was wrong. The car was moving, Tobias needed to be briefed, Elena's surgery follow-up needed to be confirmed, and there were twelve other things pulling at the edges of the morning that deserved attention before she opened that particular door. Those things were all true. They were also not the reason. The journals had started two weeks after she came back. She had bought them from a small shop near her father's house — nothing special, plain covers, the kind of notebooks that don't attract attention. She had written in them at night, when the house was quiet and she could stop performing the version of herself that everyone expected and just think. And what she had written was true. All of it was true. But truth, she understood now, was a thing that needed its context the same way a fire needed walls — without them, it burned everything. She had written things lik

CHAPTER 67

Cameron had not argued about it — not exactly. He had gone quiet in the particular way that meant he had things to say and was choosing, very deliberately, not to say them. She had picked up her bag, told him she would be back within two hours, and walked out before the silence could turn into a conversation she wasn't ready to have..She needed to do this one by herself.Some things were like that.First National Bank on Meridian was a tall, glass-fronted building in the older part of the financial district. The kind of place that still had marble floors and wooden counters and tellers who didn't rush you. Elena had chosen well. A bank like this asked few questions and kept its records for a very long time.Nyla approached the front desk and asked for the safety deposit manager. She kept her voice even and her hands still. She was aware of how she looked — no sleep, borrowed composure, a silver key in her jacket pocket that she had touched approximately forty times in the past hour t

CHAPTER 68

That was what every official record said. Car accident, fifteen years ago, a stretch of highway two states over. Death certificate filed within four days. Funeral arrangements made by a distant cousin. A small notice in a local newspaper that no one had thought to scan until Tobias found the archive.Dead. Clean. Documented.Cameron set the initial search results on the kitchen table in front of Nyla without comment. She read through them. Then she looked up."He's not dead," she said."No," Cameron agreed. "He's not."It had taken Tobias less than three hours to find the first crack.The death certificate was filed in a county records office — a small jurisdiction, understaffed, the kind of office that processed paperwork without looking too hard at what it was processing. Nothing unusual about that. Except that when Tobias cross-referenced the filing clerk's records from that same period, a pattern appeared that shouldn't have been there.The same clerk. The same office. The same pr

CHAPTER 69

The argument started over breakfast.Not a loud argument. Not the kind with raised voices and slammed doors. Those were easier, in a way — they moved fast and burned out fast and left clear air behind them. This one was quieter. The kind that sits across a table from you and holds its ground.Cameron had made coffee. He'd set a plate of toast beside it. Small, careful gestures that Nyla had noticed him making over the past weeks — the way he thought ahead for other people without announcing it. She had noticed it from the beginning. She had been trying not to let it matter and failing.She told him she was leaving in an hour.He put his mug down."I want to come with you," he said."We already talked about this.""We talked about you going alone. I didn't agree to it."She looked at him. "You said fine.""I said I didn't like it." He kept his voice level. "That's not the same thing as agreement."She set down her own mug and turned to face him properly. She had learned, with Cameron,

CHAPTER 70

The man who opened the door was in his mid-sixties. Thin — not the kind of thin that came from age, but the kind that came from years of moving light, of not accumulating things you couldn't carry. Grey at the temples. Eyes that had spent a long time looking at the edges of rooms before looking at the centre.He looked at her.She looked at him."You have her eyes," he said. His voice was rough with disuse, like something kept in a drawer and rarely taken out. "I'd have known you anywhere."He stepped back from the door.She went in.The room was sparse. A bed, a table, two chairs. A single bag on the floor that looked like it had been packed and unpacked and repacked so many times it had forgotten what full looked like. On the table: a book, a glass of water, a newspaper folded to a crossword that had been abandoned halfway through.He sat in one chair. She sat in the other.For a moment neither of them spoke, and she had the strange sense that he had been waiting for exactly this —

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