I smile despite myself and keep driving east, toward the place where everything went quiet—and where we’re about to make it loud again.
“You’re making me feel like I don’t have to.”
“You make me feel that way too, Z.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
HURRICANE
ZACK
Philly always feels like it’s watching you. It’s so bright and colorful with this feeling of never truly being alone, the buildings all filled with history and the secrets of a time long since forgotten.
Even from the highway, the city has a way of sitting back on its heels, pretending not to notice while it catalogs every car that passes through. I don’t slow until the last possible second, cutting down side streets and doubling back once just to be sure. The routine is so ingrained it barely registers as effort anymore.
The safe house is a narrow brick row home tucked between two identical ones, forgettable by design. No cameras pointed outward. No obvious security. Just another place someone might live and never ask questions about. I park two blocks away anyway; I’m gonna need a new rental car anyway, so I’ll make the guys get us another one while we’re out tonight.
“Home sweet, extremely temporary, home,” Hazel says, hopping out and stretching like we didn’t just drive nearly nine hours straight.
“Fake names,” I remind her automatically as I shoulder the bag. “If anyone asks.”
She grins. “Obviously. Who am I today?”
“Claire.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Rude. I’m not a Claire.”
“You are here.”
She sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I’m afunClaire.”
Inside, the place is already stocked; clean clothes, basic food, burner phones charging on the counter. My MC, Broken Halo, set it up weeks ago as a fallback; no questions asked, cash handled through channels that don’t exist on paper. I do a quick sweep out of habit, then finally let my shoulders drop when everything checks out.
Hazel wanders the living room, peering at the shelves. “You know,” she says, “for a guy who pretends he doesn’t plan ahead, you plan aheada lot.”
“I don’t pretend,” I say. “People assume.”
She flashes me a smile that says she knows exactly what I mean, and doesn’t plan on letting me hide behind it.
“Are we sharing a bed?”
“No—” My voice is clipped, but I see her shoulders sag, and I can’t help but feel guilty. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”
Her face lights up, and it’s truly the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “I need a nap, join me?”
Hazel and I crawl into the bed, and once we’re settled, I check my phone again. A message from Lincoln lights up the screen.
Lincoln: MEDIA. 6:30. Nora’s awake and already negotiating dessert.
I huff a quiet laugh.
“We’re heading out again,” I tell Hazel, my hand gently rubbing up and down her back. Her tiny body is barely half of mine, but somehow we just fit together. “Lincoln lives in Media, about thirty-five minutes west. We’re meeting for dinner.”
Her eyes light up immediately. “Wait—LincolnLincoln? The hacker genius with the dad energy?”
“That’s him. It’ll be him and his daughter.”
“…His daughter?” she adds, already smiling wider.
