The flight back to Blackhaven was silent.
Adam stared out the window at the clouds, his reflection ghosting over the dark water below. Sandra slept in the seat beside him, her head against his shoulder. Nina sat across the aisle, flipping through a magazine she wasn't reading.
Three days in Argentina. Three days of chasing a ghost. And in the end, they'd let him go.
“You did the right thing,” Nina said, not looking up from her magazine.
“Did I?”
“He was an old man. He wasn't a threat anymore.”
“He was the head of a trafficking network. He ordered murders. He ruined lives.”
“And now he's dying. Alone. In a vineyard. With no one to remember him.” Nina set the magazine down. “That's worse than prison.”
Adam didn't answer.
---
Blackhaven looked the same.
Gray skies. Wet streets. The
