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“Kept what?”

“The key.” My thumb brushes the faded ink. “I made this with him.”

For one impossible second, I’m eight again, sitting cross-legged beside Dad while he explains that normal people write messages everyone can read, but spies make people work for the privilege. I laugh through the tears. “I thought we were spies.”

Gage kisses my temple. “You grew up to be one.”

“Digital spy.”

“Semantics.”

I grab my notebook and start writing. The old rhythm comes back faster than it has any right to. Coordinate, letter. Coordinate, letter. The first word begins taking shape.

J—U—B⁠—

Gage’s phone buzzes. He glances down, and everything in him changes for less than a second. Shoulders lock. Eyes sharpen.

“What?”

He turns the phone face-down against his thigh. “Maisie needs me.”

I unfold my legs. “What happened?”

“Café issue.”

“I’ll come.”

His palm settles on my shoulder. “Stay.”

My eyes narrow. “Since when do you turn down free labor?”

He rises. “Since my free labor is busy cracking a dead spy’s secret code.” Valid.

Gage bends and kisses me, not rushed or desperate. His thumb brushes my cheek when he pulls away. “Finish your letter, Princess.”

I shove his chest. “Go rescue your sister from whatever cat-based apocalypse requires a six-foot-four pastry chef.”

“I’ll be back.”

He grabs his keys, and the door shuts behind him. I stare at it for several seconds before the cipher drags me back. Twenty minutes later, I stop breathing. The decoded message sits in my notebook, and I read it three times.

JUBILEE. IF JOSHUA BROUGHT YOU THIS LETTER, HE WANTS WHAT I HID.

My blood goes cold. I decode the next line.

DO NOT GIVE HIM THE LEDGER.

The third takes longer. My fingers start shaking before I finish it.

THE MONEY DOESN’T MATTER. THE LEDGER DOES.

I stare at the notebook, at Joshua’s unopened email sitting in another tab, and at the front door Gage walked through twenty minutes ago because Maisie suddenly needed him.

A terrible feeling crawls up my spine. I reach for my phone.

CHAPTER 32

Gage