88
Sara
I pace around the Esguerras’ dining room, anxiety drilling a hole in my chest. Nora and Yulia are both here, as is the young guard, Diego. He’s receiving live updates about the ongoing operation through his headphones, so I know that Peter has just entered the restaurant, braving the likely trap.
“He’s talking to her now,” Diego says, glancing up from his laptop screen after twenty agonizing minutes, and I rush over to see a blurry image of a man who looks nothing like Peter sitting across from a thin woman.
“This is from a long-range camera,” Diego explains. “We don’t want to spook them by getting too close.”
“But all is still quiet?” Yulia asks, leaning over his shoulder, and he nods.
“Henderson’s spooks are either preternaturally good—or there’s no one around.”
I look ove
