At the South Pier, wind came off the black water and rattled loose sheets of metal against the rusted shipping containers. The air smelled of salt and rot.
"We have you on thermal, Serena. You're covered," Miller said in my ear.
"Stay on script," Julian added. "Just get her talking."
Chloe Adams stepped from behind a container in a tailored coat. Her high-heeled boots clicked over the cracked asphalt, and she was smiling.
"Look at you. Frightened. Pathetic. This is what happens when you stop evolving. The world moves on, and you get left behind in a pretty house with a baby."
I pulled the USB tight against my palm. "I have what you want."
Chloe's smile widened. "You made this easy. Men like Julian outgrow domestic attachments. I just gave reality a faster timeline."
The microphone a
