Sofia frowned. “Who?”
Elvira nodded discreetly toward three people sitting in front of Salacia’s offices. A woman and two men.
“They’ve been lurking around here for a couple days,” Elvira said. “Asked for you. I told them you were back today.”
“And you forgot to mention it?” Sofia narrowed her eyes.
“It didn’t seem important.”
“They could be journalists.”
“Or clients,” Elvira offered.
“Then why didn’t they speak to you?”
“Because you’re the famous, pretty face of Salacia. I’m just the brains.” She smirked. “And the other pretty face, obviously. But I don’t have one million followers, a TerraVive sponsorship, or a boyfriend with an Olympic gold medal.”
Sofia rolled her eyes. “As if that frees me from my torments.”
As they approached the group, Sofia took a quick inventory. The trio looked about her age, early thirties, and definitely out of their element. Their stiff posture and slightly too-polished clothes screamed not locals.
One guy was blond with sharp, very fair skin that almost reflected the light, and Nordic features. Definitely not from around here. The second man looked like a very attractiveversion of a finance bro or something like that: wavy black hair swept back, fairly tanned skin, sunglasses hiding his eyes. But the woman caught Sofia’s attention most: dark-skinned, stunning, with sleek cornrows and a warm, toothy smile.
“Hello!” the woman chirped brightly coming forward in her direction. “Are you Dr. Sofia Moretti Gómez?”
That made Sofia’s eyebrow lift. If she was using the academic title, she wasn’t a tourist. Cue her inner porcupine activated.
“Yes. And you are?”
“I’m Asma Grent. I’m an environmental lawyer, strategic lead, and co-founder of Lamina Research Integrity Group.” She gestured to the two men. “These are my cofounders. That’s Leif Haldorsen, data and tech lead, and marine robotics nerd.” The blond nodded. “And that’s Callum Evans, finance and ops, and forensic accountant.”
Sofia turned toward Elvira, who had taken over hauling equipment and was giving them all agood lucksmirk.
“Very impressive titles,” Sofia said, folding her arms. “But what do you want from me?”
“We’re a startup founded two years ago,” Leif began, his sharp Nordic blue eyes steady. “We specialize in scientific due diligence, verifying data, auditing funding, making sure eco-tech and ocean science orgs walk their talk. Think of us as a hybrid between investigative journalism and consultancy.”
Sofia didn’t blink. “And?”
Asma jumped in. “You used to work at Neptune. The European Commission asked us to do a preliminary audit. You left the company just before some red flags popped up. We wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“You could’ve sent an email,” Sofia said flatly.
“We were vacationing in Calais,” Callum added, his accent so thick it made her blink. Was that Scottish? Yorkshire?Who knew.“We figured we’d swing by on our way back to London.”
“It felt more informal this way,” Asma said cheerfully.
Informal was definitely the right word, since Sofia was still in her waterproof jacket, overalls, and non-slip deck boots. Even though she hadn’t dove into the water, salt clung in her hair as the sun started to dip behind the marina.
“And is any of this legal?” she asked. “Just showing up at someone’s workplace asking for an off-the-record interview about a job she left six months ago?”
Asma nodded. “It’s not exactly standard,but nothing we’re doing is illegal. We follow your work, and we’re big fans of the way you communicate about science. We thought you’d prefer something casual, no pressure.”
Still no mention of Ilias. That alone earned them a few points.
After a long pause, Sofia said, “Fine. Let me go home, shower, and change. I’ll meet you at Basilico Trattoria in town. If you want me to talk, I want pizza.”
“That sounds amazing. We love pizza.” Asma beamed.
