Sienna didn't sleep.
Not really.
She lay on the edge of the bed for maybe twenty minutes at a time, eyes open in the dark, mind racing through possibilities, names, options, dead ends, and risks. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Alessandro in handcuffs. Heard the quiet click of metal closing around his wrists. Felt the sharp, suffocating panic that had settled in her chest and refused to leave.
So she got up.
By ten p.m., she was already on her phone.
By eleven, she had a notebook open, pages filling with names, arrows, scribbled ideas.
By midnight, she had a plan.
Not a perfect plan. Not even a good one, objectively speaking. It had holes. Risks. Assumptions stacked on top of assumptions.
But it was something.
And right now, something was all they had.
"We need to prove the documents are fake," she said, her voice steady despite the exhaustion pulling at her bones.
