The morning light in Leo's apartment was aggressive. It didn't gently wake the room; it interrogated it. It bounced off the cold granite countertops and the stainless steel appliances, highlighting every speck of dust that Leo's "Machine" mind usually cataloged and eliminated.
But today, the apartment didn't feel like a vault. It felt like a stage.
Leo stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the grey sprawl of Oakhaven. His wedding ring felt like a hot iron band against his skin. Behind him, he heard the soft, rhythmic breathing of his wife. Wife. The word still felt like a foreign language he was trying to learn.
He thought about the night before. He thought about the "Cleaners" in the vestry. He thought about the way the bleach had stung his throat while he was dancing with a woman who thought her best friend was just "sleeping off the champagne."
Every time Ayiesha laughed in her sleep, Leo felt a jagged piece of the lie tear at his insides. He was the Enforcer. He was the man who fixed things. But how do you fix a reality that is fundamentally broken?
"Leo?"
Her voice was a soft chirp, muffled by the duvet. He turned. Ayiesha was sitting up, her hair a wild, dark halo around her face. She was still wearing his charcoal dress shirt—the one that now smelled of her orange-blossom perfume and the faint, metallic scent of the cathedral's incense.
"You're brooding," she yawned, rubbing her eyes. "It's 8:00 AM on our first day of being 'The Sterlings' and you're already staring at the city like you're planning to fight it."
"The city is always looking for a fight," Leo rasped. He walked over to the bed, his massive frame casting a shadow that she didn't even flinch at. He sat on the edge, the mattress groaning. "I was just thinking about the bakery. The re-opening."
"It's going to be perfect," she said, reaching out to tangle her fingers in his. "Vane sent over those 'security consultants'—which I know is just mob-speak for 'guys with big necks and hidden holsters'—but I don't care. For the first time, I feel like I can just... bake. No fear. No shadows. Just sugar and spice."
Leo squeezed her hand. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to scream that Sarah was dead, that a ghost was haunting the streets, and that her "sugar and spice" was a flare in the dark for a monster.
Instead, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll go make the coffee. You stay here. Dream of something quiet."
"Quiet is boring, Lion," she laughed, throwing the covers off. "I was born to make noise."
As he walked into the kitchen, Leo's phone buzzed. A text from Vane.
VANE: Nothing on the 'Nobody.' The streets are silent. Too silent. Keep her inside.
Leo put the phone face down. He looked at the Ferrari key on the counter. The "Machine" was screaming at him to take Ayiesha and drive—to leave Oakhaven and never look back. But he knew the rules. You don't run from a ghost. You wait for it to show its face, and then you bury it.