SEVEN
WHEN THEY GOT BACK to the apartment, the balcony door was closed. All the internal doors were. Maybe because Daire was on his feet by the folding table, looking down at the flat Gizmo.
Styx locked the front door after them and carried the iced coffee over to the table to set it down.
“Yeah,” Daire said, though she didn’t know to who.
“Boy,” came the disembodied voice from the Gizmo, a voice that made her blink and move closer. Harry. “You’ve been up to some shit.”
“Missed you too, Stratego,” Styx said, taking two coffees from the cardboard tray to hand one to Daire. “What’s your ETA?”
Daire put the coffee back on the table. Before his brother could drink his own, Daire took the cup right out of Styx’s hand to put it down too.
“Tomorrow,” Harry said, a little harried. “Can’t sa
