The safe house smells like mildew and regret.
I chose this place specifically because no one would think to look for me here—a crumbling walk-up in Alphabet City, the kind of building where neighbors mind their business and surveillance cameras mysteriously malfunction. The radiator clanks like it's harboring ghosts, and the single window overlooks a fire escape that's seen better decades. It's not much, but it's mine. More importantly, it's off the grid.
I'm standing by that window when I hear the knock. Three rapid taps, pause, two more. Dante's signal.
I cross the room and unlock the three deadbolts I installed myself, pulling open the door just wide enough to confirm it's him. Even now, even with the one person I trust, I don't take chances.
"Sera." His voice is rough, weathered by
