“Make sure your notes say we agreed under protest,” Roberto says.
“Under protest?” the quiet one repeats, like they’re foreign words.
“You made a mess yesterday and now you’re hanging a new box in my client’s house to clean it up,” Roberto says evenly. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t clap.”
The talker nods like he’s been told worse. “We’ll run a walk-off. Mr. Conti, if you could stand by the base.”
I move into the hall. The island feels big behind me, the kitchen bigger. The quiet one stands next to the unit, watching the LEDs. The talker steps down the hall, watching his tablet. “Signal strength… good. Step toward the study, please.”
I do. The ankle buzzes once, no sound, just a small vibration like a phone in a pocket. “We’re connected,” the quiet one says.
“Far side of the kitchen?” the talker asks.
I go as far as the pantry and stop. He nods to himself. “We’re good. Fifty feet with walls.”
“Lucky materials,” Roberto says.
The quiet one checks the strap again, not meeting my eyes. I don’t blame him. Men like them live behind screens or in labs. To them, I’ll always be a reason to keep on guard.
The talker walks back to the island and sets the tablet down. “Nightly, if you leave range, it will call out. If you return within ninety seconds, it logs as a proximity breach, not a violation. If you stay out, it escalates. If you’re leaving for emergency medical during the window, call the number on the sticker and your officer.”
Roberto taps the table with two fingers. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“We weren’t anywhere two nights ago, either,” I add, because I can’t resist drawing the line where it belongs.
The talker nods. “This will make sure nothing like that happens again.”
Which means no more late night visits to Elena. Not yet, anyway.
Last night would be impossible now.
Good, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers. You don’t need any more distractions. You have a mission to complete. You can’t afford to stray.
Wanting and needing are not the same. I built a life on the difference.
I want Elena. I need to avenge my family.
I wonder if she ate.
The techs and Roberto are talking, but my mind is somewhere else completely.
Finally, the talker clears his throat. “We’ll do one more test at eleven tonight remotely,” he says. “If we don’t get the anchor, we’ll call. You don’t need to do anything.”
Roberto slips the signed forms back into his case and snaps it shut. “You’ll email a copy to me and Pretrial.”
“Yes, sir.”
He walks them to the back door, and they shake hands they don’t want to shake. They walk down the service path, and the house closes around us again.
Roberto turns from the back door and gives me the look I know he’s been saving for me all morning.
Disapproval.
“You done?” he asks.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I say, not bothering to play dumb.
He doesn’t bother answering that. He taps the new white box on the credenza with two knuckles, like he’s knocking on a coffin lid. “You’re playing with fire, Luca. That’s not where you were supposed to be last night. We agreed you would stay away from her.”
