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"You’re in shock," he says without judgement.

“I’m a pro. I’m not in shock." That’s just not possible. Even if all the logic tracks. Not moving. No emotion. Flat affect. Little recognition of my surroundings.

“It’s okay.” He’s all softness and care as he squeezes my hand. I feel that. The pressure of his palm. The warmth of it. The sweetness in his voice. “You’re still human.”

Does he really believe that?

"Breathe out for me," he says gently.

His fingers brush my wrists. A soft touch. Loving even.

I soak in the pressure of his fingertips.

He notices my increase in calm. Does it again. He traces the line where the cuff left my wrist red, then he brings my hand to his mouth and places a kiss on the inside of my wrist.

“Another breath,” he says.

I take a longer inhale.

A slower exhale.

He presses another kiss to my skin, then he helps me to my feet.

"Come on. I saw ouzu downstairs. Have a few shots while I search the place,” he says.

“Then what?” I ask.

“Then I put you to bed.”

MATTEO

I work as quickly as possible. Find an encrypted laptop, a wallet with a handful of business cards, and a ledger book written in Greek.

I’m in the middle of staging a break-in when Jamie joins me in the living room. She trashes some antique pots, smashes a window, and tears a painting from its frame.

Then there’s the cash in the study, extra bottles of ouzo, an expensive watch.

It’s not a foolproof cover, but it might buy us a few hours.

After I break the lock on the front door, I lead Jamie to the speed boat I took here, sit her on the bench, wrap her in my jacket, and hand her the cell that belonged to her colleague.

I task Jamie with going through his phone to see what he’s reported officially.

She settles into the job, her attention on the screen, even as the boat twists and turns.

It keeps her centered for ride, but she’s still shaky the second she’s on dry land.

She barely notices the soft glow of sunrise, the clear blue water, the rocky shore.

I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it in her posture myself. The way she’s holding herself together so tightly because, otherwise, the light breeze will blow her in a million pieces.

I got Yorgos’s ransom note halfway here. She must know about his plan. After all, the two of them were talking.

But was she a part of it?

I’m not sure.

I help her off the boat and lead her up the stone path to the house.