A long pause. Whispering I can't make out—he must be talking to Cat. I'm about to hang up when there's static, then rustling.
"Are you positive?" Cat's voice now.
"Yes. I got a confession."
A sharp intake of breath. "From who?"
"A dead guy. Doesn't matter anymore. I need access to the security company's system."
"No."
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my cool. "Caterina, it wasn't a request."
"I said no." Her voice hardens. "That firewall will eat you alive. You try to breach it and they'll know someone's poking around. Then you're dead—and so is Keira."
"Then get me in without tripping the alarms."
"I can't."
"You mean you won't."
A frustrated exhale crackles through the line. "I mean I can't. They're built for this. We can't just hack our way in."
"Then find someone who can."
"Tristan—"
"Am I on speaker?"
She doesn't answer me right away. "Yes."
"Aaron, if Cat were taken, you'd burn the world down to find her. You know you would."
The silence that follows is deafening.
Aaron's voice comes through, rough and low. "Give us twenty-four hours."
"Aaron—" Cat starts, but he's already made the call.
"I'll call you back. Keep your head down." He pauses. "And Tristan?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't do anything stupid before we call you back."
The line goes dead.
I sit there for a moment, staring at the burner phone in my hand.
Then I pull the battery out and snap the SIM card in half.
My eyes catch the red leather notebook on the bedside table.
I picked it up on my way into London. Told myself it was for intel, but that was a lie.
The moment I stepped back into this city, I saw her everywhere. In the curve of a stranger's shoulder. The cadence of a laugh three tables over. The way the rain catches the light on a window I used to watch her through.
Years later, and London still belongs to her.
