I pause.
“If they hadn’t come for me,” she says carefully, “would you have ever found this?”
I don’t answer right away.
Because the truth is sharp.
“No,” I say finally. “And that’s why they miscalculated.”
I leave before the moment stretches further.
Because if I stay—
I might start thinking about outcomes that don’t belong to the mission.
7
Lark
Location: Safehouse — Lisbon
Time: Morning
The door closes softly behind him.
Not slammed. Not locked from the outside.
A choice.
I sit there for a long time after Aaron leaves, replaying his words like I’m annotating a document that might save lives—or cost them.
High-value asset.
Leverage.
Rules.
He wasn’t wrong.
That’s the most unsettling part.
I move to the kitchen and pour a glass of water with hands that finally start to shake now that I’m alone. The adrenaline is burning off, leaving a hollowed-out ache in its place.
I press my palms to the counter and breathe.
My mother used to say fear settles where truth hasn’t finished forming.
I don’t feel afraid.
I feel exposed.
I walk back to the couch and open the laptop again.
Not the drive.
Not yet.
Instead, I open a blank document.
