Date Night

I walked out of the gallery.

The evening air was crisp, carrying the scent of roasted nuts and car exhaust. New York was alive. Noisy. Dirty.

Real.

Kieran was waiting on the corner, holding Lucas's hand. He looked different now. His hair was shorter, his clothes simpler. He looked like a father.

Or maybe just a man who had finally stopped running.

Lucas saw me and waved. He was holding a pretzel, mustard smeared on his chin.

"Did they like the pictures?" he asked.

"They loved them," I said.

I ruffled his hair.

"Where's Bea?"

"She's with Sarah," Kieran said. "They went to get ice cream."

I nodded.

We walked down the street, the three of us. A family forged in fire.

I looked at the buildings around us. The skyscrapers. The brownstones. The glass towers.

I used to see them as cages. Structures designed to contain.

Now, I saw them differently.

They were just buildings. Stone and steel and glass.

They only had the power you gave them.

"Len," Kieran said. "I got a call today."

"From who?"

"From the lawyer. In Lisbon."

I stopped.

"What did he say?"

"The money," Kieran said. "The transfer went through. All of it."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Twelve million euros.

Gone.

To people who needed it. To people who had lost their homes.

Just like us.

"Good," I said.

"And," Kieran added, "he said something else."

"What?"

"They found something. In the ruins of the villa."

My heart skipped a beat.

"What did they find?"

Kieran looked at me. His eyes were serious.

"A safe," he said. "Fireproof. It survived the blaze."

"And?"

"It was empty," he said.

I frowned.

"Empty?"

"Except for one thing."

He reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

It was charred at the edges. Smelling of smoke.

He handed it to me.

I unfolded it.

It was a drawing.

Architectural. Precise.

A blueprint.

But not of a house.

Of a prison.

And written in the corner, in Julian's handwriting...

*Project C.*

*Status: Pending.*

I stared at the paper.

Project C.

A, B... C.

"There's another one," I whispered.

Kieran nodded.

"Yeah. There's another one."

I looked at Lucas. He was watching a street performer, oblivious.

I looked at the city. At the millions of people. At the millions of secrets.

Julian was dead. Inês was dead.

But the plan...

The plan was still alive.

"Where?" I asked.

Kieran pointed to the bottom of the page.

Coordinates.

*40.7128° N, 74.0060° W.*

New York.

Right here.

I looked up at the skyscrapers. At the glass towers that pierced the sky.

One of them was his.

One of them was a cage.

Waiting.

I crumpled the paper in my hand.

I looked at Kieran.

"We have to find it," I said.

"I know," he said.

He took my hand.

"