“That makes sense.” Aida stood to help her friend hang her clothes. “It means they won’t be jaded when they’re cataloging happiness. The Romans, for example, barely seem to notice they are living among such priceless treasures, whereas tourists walk around with their mouths open in awe.” She thought about it for a moment. “It makes perfect sense. We can experience happiness differently in a new place, so the Collectors need to be foreign.”
“Actually,thatis the real mystery here,” Felix said. He had sunk into a plush white chair near the door to the flower-lined balcony. “Why are they collecting happiness at all? And why do they need a couple hundred people to do it?”
“True, that’s fucking weird, but let’s start small. Aida, I have something for you.” Yumi set the empty suitcase aside and started rifling through her bag until she found her phone. A momentlater, an AirDrop notice popped up on Aida’s device. She accepted, and the document opened.
“Those are the people who are usually in London at the same time you are,” Yumi explained.
Aida stared at the document, surprised. Yumi had curated a detailed table—names, short biographies, employers, and even photos of each person. Yumi had gone deeper than just tracking hotel guests; she had compiled background information from public records and pieced together details from social media and professional networking profiles.
A couple of them were vaguely familiar, though Aida couldn’t be sure if she had seen them in passing during her trips to London. Then, two faces stood out: the older woman who had gone up in the lift with Mo, and Luciano. Aida couldn’t help but smile when she saw his photo.
“Heisquite the snack,” Yumi teased her. “Way better than your last love interest.”
Aida gave her a sock in the arm. “He’s not a love interest!”
Yumi’s only response was to cackle at her.
Felix gave Yumi a conspiratorial look. “I agree, snack is apt.” He grinned at Aida. “I’m sure you aren’t sad at all to leave us for London.”
“Oh, stop,” Aida said. “Iamsad to leave you!” She tucked her phone away in the bottom of her purse. “Well, a little sad.” She chuckled. “Come on, let’s grab lunch and a spritz, and Yumi can catch us up on life in Boston.”
Aida remembered to flip her MODA phone back on when they had settled into the heated tent of the café. It wasn’t even a minute later that it buzzed in her pocket. Her heart began to hammer when she saw Trista’s name on the screen. She briefly debated not answering but decided that would only lead to more problems. “Pronto.”
“Where are you?” Trista sounded more irritated than concerned. “Why is your MODA phone not working again? It went right to voicemail.”
“It did?” She paused for a second. “You know how hard it is to get a signal inside some of these buildings. It’s so frustrating. Yumi and I have been ducking into shops and finally settled in at a coffee bar. When I went down to the basement for the bathroom, there was a line, so I might not have been accessible for a bit.” This was perfectly plausible. Getting any signal through centuries-old layers of marble, brick, stucco, or cement was impossible in many places.
Trista paused, as if deciding whether to believe her. “Very well,” she finally said. “Your flight to London has changed from tomorrow morning to this evening. The pilot called in sick, and her replacement can only take you this afternoon at 17:00.”
Five o’clock. “All right. We’re having a little middayaperitivo, then I’ll be back to pack.” Aida hung up and briefly shut off the phone to relay the conversation to her companions. “We’re going to have to be more careful. I think she knows I’ve been turning it off.”
“I’ll see if there is anything I can do about that,” Yumi said. “Turn it back on, and let’s get that spritz.”
She did, and they easily filled the conversation with trivialities in case her phone was listening, but underneath it all, Aida knew they were burning to get to the bottom of the MODA mystery.
In London, the onset of the holiday season had subtly transformed the city, and its festive touch was evident as Aida arrived at the hotel. The lobby was tastefully decorated with discreet strands of twinkling lights and a modest, elegantly adorned Christmas tree in one corner, creating a cozy, welcoming atmosphere. As she navigated the softly humming common areas, Aida paid attention to the individuals she encountered, hoping to recognize someone from the list Yumi had given her. She sat in the lobby for a while and observed guests coming and going. The only familiar face was Luciano, who entered with a single carry-on suitcase. Their eyes met for a moment before hequickly masked his expression, diverting his gaze and moving swiftly toward the check-in desk.
Aida made her way to her room, and not long after, her phone buzzed—it was Luciano on Signal.
Ciao Aida. ??
Aida’s heart fluttered.I’m glad you’re here. I have something important to share with you.
He responded immediately.Are you staying in town after your meeting or returning? If you are staying, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?
She gave a little fist pump to the air, glad she hadn’t planned to return to Rome right after her meeting with MODA the next day.I’d be delighted.
Meet me under the clock on the corner of High Holborn and Southhampton Row at 19:00. There’s a Thai place about 15 minutes away, if that would interest you? Better if we aren’t seen together at the hotel.
As soon as she hit Send on her affirmative response, her MODA phone buzzed, startling her and sending her blood pumping. They couldn’t know she had been communicating with Luciano, could they? She willed her voice to be calm as she picked it up and said hello.
“I hope your report is ready.” She was surprised to hear Mo’s voice, as she’d never spoken with him on the phone before.
“Now? I thought we were meeting tomorrow afternoon?” Aida said, confused that they would want her report in the evening before she even had a bite to eat. She glanced in the mirror above the hotel dresser, wishing she had time to redo her makeup.
His response was terse. “You’re here now, and I’m waiting.”The phone disconnected, leaving Aida to stare at the glowing interface.
She wanted to text Luciano back to warn him that his schedule might change too, but the timing of Mo’s call at the end of their conversation worried her, so she decided against it. She rushed to pull herself together and made her way to the private elevator.
