The Parking Garage

Tessa answered the door holding a cordless drill.

It was not a gun, but it communicated a useful willingness to improvise.

Two Kind Harbor compliance officers stood on the porch with visitor badges no one had requested. Behind them, a black SUV idled with its lights off.

"Nora Vale is not here," Tessa said.

From the upstairs bathroom, Nora held her breath beside Sophie, who had woken at the bell and now clutched the purple homework drive to her chest without knowing it contained enough evidence to hurt powerful adults.

"We have reason to believe she accessed protected records from this network," one officer said.

"At two in the morning, you believed your way to my porch?"

"Ma'am—"

"Don't ma'am me unless you brought a warrant or a casserole."

Brooke arrived from the alley because Ruiz had sent her before calling marked units. Suspended or not, Brooke moved like authority. The officers recognized the shape even if they did not know the status.

"Names," Brooke said.

They gave them badly. Brooke wrote them down.

"Who sent you?"

"Compliance."

"Kind Harbor has a first name?"

The officers retreated to procedure. Brooke let them. Procedure recorded fear if you knew where to put the pressure.

Then the black SUV door opened.

Petra Voss stepped out.

Brooke's expression did not change. "You are far from Harbor Union."

"And you are far from employed authority."

Tessa lifted the drill higher. "This is still my porch."

Petra smiled. "We are here to prevent unlawful disclosure of patient information."

Upstairs, Nora's phone buzzed. Ruiz: Do not open door. Units two minutes.

Sophie whispered, "Are they taking the homework thing?"

Nora looked at the drive in her daughter's hands.

"No."

"Then hide it where boring people don't look."

Sophie crawled under the bed and taped the drive inside a sneaker.