Morning hung low and bright over the river. Traffic rolled steady. From the window, the storage yards looked like a grid someone had drawn in a hurry.
Nora had been up before dawn. She pointed at the tablet they took from Cesare’s locker and the copy she’d already pulled. “The ‘Atlas’ is more than favors. There’s a schedule. He checks that box every Thursday before lunch. Today is Thursday.”
Emilia tapped a knuckle against the table. “He’s coming back to make sure nothing moved.”
“Or to add something ugly,” Rafael said. “We put eyes on it. No heroics.”
Nora slid a small plastic tab across the wood. “Signal tag. If he swaps the box, we’ll know which way it goes and when it opens.”
Emilia pocketed it. Her gaze cut to Rafael and softened for a second. He felt the heat of it like a hand o
