Zariah stood at the edge of a small part in Tribeca, the flashdrive heavy in her pocket. The air smelled of rain, though the storm hadn't broken yet. Clouds hung low and restless over the skyline, matching the unease knotting her stomach.
Dorian waited few paces behind, giving her space but staying close enough that she felt him, steady, watchful.
She glanced back at him "Are you sure about this?"
His jaw tightened. "No but you are."
That was all she needed. Together they crossed the street to a little internet cafe tucked between a laundromat and a locksmith. It wasn't much, old machines, flickering lights but it was anonymous.
Inside, Zariah logged into a dusty terminal. Dorian kept his eyes on the door, one hand resting near his coat, near the concealed weapon she knew he carried.
Her fingers trembled as she slid in the flash drive.
Files loaded. Dozens of them, financial records, offshore accounts, names she didn't recognize, a tangled web of companies, shell corporations, bribes and at the center, a name she did know.
Voss Global Holdings.
Her breath caught.
Her mother's notes hadn't been paranoia. They had been a roadmap and Dorian's family, his legacy, was tangled in it.
Zariah felt him at her side before she saw him.
His face was pale, his lips pressed in a grim line. "I didn't know," he said hoarsely. "I swear to you, I didn't know." But Zariah wasn't sure if she believed him anymore or is she could afford to.
A crash outside shattered the moment. Tires squealed, someone yelled. Dorian grabbed her hand, "We have to go now." They ran, the city closing in around the them, the shadows thicker, the danger closer.
But so , too, was the truth and Zariah knew one thing for certain: whatever lay ahead, she wasn't running anymore. She was chasing it now, chasing them.
Chasing everything she forgot to love and everything she's about to lose.