Each person in the street moves as if unseeing hands drag them this way and that, pulling their eyes to one thing and then another. A dash of yellow crosses my vision as another taxi drives on the streets, followed by a large truck trickling the tip of my shoes with water, its tires rolling through a grey puddle. Sirens distantly wail in the distance, honks are heard every minute, but I can still make out the constant patter of Marli's anxious tapping foot.

We've been waiting for Theo's black car to roll around the U-Turn in front of Rin's café for fifteen minutes. For a second, I feel faint panic that it already crossed us without our noticing, and think of how many black cars drove by us. When we agreed on meeting up in his car and drive to the address, he didn't tell me any details about the car, only that 'I'll know it when I see it.' Now, I roll my eyes at his enigma, kicking the wet ground as the sixteenth minute ticks by.

But he was right. A shiny, black, Cullinan Rolls Royce is easy to spot from the end of the street, and I can't help but admire it as it slows down in front of us. The windows are tinted to the point where I question if it's legal.

The driver's window rolls down to reveal Theo's handsome face surrounded by garnet red, plush seats. He jerked his head to the inside of the car: get in.

Not thinking too much of it, I step into the passenger's seat while Marli sits in the back. Immediately, I feel a twinge of regret at leaving her sitting there alone, but I pushed it back. She won't care.

Sure enough, I look back to find her excited but nervous face. I offer her a reassuring smile before turning back to Theo, noting how much the car smells like his familiar cologne. He wears a black, long-sleeved sweater that fits his broad shoulders well.

"What took you so long? I was starting to think you wouldn't show," I say in annoyance, buckling my seatbelt.

"I had to get my stuff from school first, but I bumped into Atlas."

"And?" If Atlas has the slightest idea of what we're doing, we're done for before even starting. Atlas and Ezra only know that I won't make it to their ride today, but not why.

But Theo's expression isn't worried, it's uncomfortable. "I . . . uhm," he starts, and grimaces. "Atlas realized we were missing most of the time at his party and then today in school. He assumed we were . . . You know. So I let him."

Heat creeps up my face, and I turn to look through the window, suddenly feeling like it is too tight in the car. My eyes catch Marli's laughing gaze in the rearview mirror, her pale hand clamped over her mouth.

"I—" My voice cracks, and I clear it, "I don't really care what they think. As long as I get what I want in the end."

He nods and turns in his seat to face Marli, a crease forming between his brows. She looks momentarily struck by the full intensity of his gaze, no doubt feeling the flutter I often felt around him. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Marlowe."

The corner of her lips droop, and she looks down, her fingers trailing the sharp edges of the red stone on her neck. She smiles politely and says, "It's okay—I mean, thanks, Theodore. Uhm, you can call me Marli."

It's my turn to stifle a smile at her nervousness.

Theo was against the idea of bringing Marli along with us, his reason being that the more people on this trip, the more attention we'll attract. But I quickly shut him down; if it came down to it, Marli will be able to empathize with the mother and convince her to help us. She will understand where we're coming from, and that we're on common grounds. And it's not like Theo and I are going to win her over by connecting to her emotionally.

"Sure, as long as you call me Theo." He smiles at her before turning around and revving the engine. I can't help but silently laugh when she starts to mouth wildly at me in the rearview mirror, and I only catch 'so hot'.

I forget how charming he can be when we aren't bickering or sneaking into offices.

"Got the address?" he asks, placing his hands on my backseat to get a better look as he backs the car.

"Yes." I pull out the wrinkled piece of paper from my back pocket. I don't need to read it, having memorized it after spending the last two days looking at it. "94 S. Sunbeam Dr.Bronx, NY 10457."

His eyes shoot up, flickering for a second, probably to picture the route in his head. "It's a twenty-minute drive, thirty with traffic in the middle of the week."

"Would've taken us an hour with the subway. Nice car, by the way."

"You like cars?" His eyebrows rise in surprise.

I shoot him a look that asks why would it be a surprise? "I know a thing or two," I reply, my voice playful. "Just because I don't mind the subway doesn't mean I don't like cars. It's like you and your obsession with stalking people, except for me it's cars."

He shoots me a dry look with narrowed eyes and shakes his head. "It's not stalking. It's doing my research. I don't like surprises."

"Huh," I muse, his words rattling me. I remember saying the same thing when I grew suspicious of him. "Me too."

I can't resist glancing at Theo every once in a while as he drives, one hand gripping the steering wheel, and the other on the gearstick, his veins crisscrossing over his forearm, marking the dips between his knuckles. He finally looks relaxed, a look that I'm not used to, and it makes me wonder what can possibly make Theo so tense. At first glance, one would think he has everything: excellent grades, money, friends, sports, and a guaranteed future. But I know firsthand how deceiving appearances can be.

In a stunning moment, I'm struck by how little I know about him and how much he knows about me. It scares me—I feel like I'm in a position of little power. Albeit, it reminds me that I can't let my guard down around him.

The rest of the ride is silent, me being too deep in thought of what awaits us at our destination, and Marli characteristically too shy to spark conversation. When the scenery through the dark windows trnasforms into a greyer shade of wrecking yards, eroded, abandoned buildings and dirty streets, I know we are in the borough of the Bronx. Poverty and filth color the streets as homeless people appear more frequently on the streets. But I can't help but admire the old spirit of hip-hop music, and the artists that make themselves known on every corner of the street, in every graffiti drawing on a building.

Theo stops the car in front of a a broken down building with red bricks peaking through grey and dogs trailing the doorway. It's quieter than the rest of the city. I feel jittery as I unbuckle my seatbelt and step out.

"Are you sure this is it?" Marli asks uneasily, hugging her slender arms.

"Mmm-hmm," Theo nods, glancing up at the building.

Taking a deep breath, I rattle my knuckles on the dusty door. A hand gently pulls me backward, and Theo stands in front of Marli and me with crossed arms and tense shoulders.

The nervousness under my skin drowns the flicker of annoyance that he thinks me incapable of protecting myself. It's unreasonable, and my mind is racing with a million other things right now.

The door opens too soon for my liking to reveal a little boy. Shaggy fiery hair sweeps over a thin freckled face, his fair skin patched with red cheeks—he's certainly a few years younger than Roan.

His emerald eyes widen and flash between us as he looks up at us in fear, one half of his body hidden by the door. "Who are you?" he asks, his pre-pubescent voice wavering. "Please leave, we're alone."

Theo crouches on the ground, and rests his elbows on his knees. A full smile graces his lips, showcasing deeply dimpled cheeks I didn't know he has. "Hey," he says softly, slightly tilting his head to the side. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm Theo, and these are my friends. We just wanna have a little chat with your mom, I promise."

The little ginger twists his lips in thought and steps away from behind the door, pushing back the hair from his eyes. "Can you wait here? I have to ask momma first."

He nods, and the little boy scurries inside the house. Straightening back up, Theo shoves his hands in his pockets. My jaw is still unhinged a little after witnessing the interaction, and Marli shares the same expression. It's such a stark contrast to my time spent with him, and once again, the thought hits me like a truck: I know nothing of this guy.

Noticing our surprise, Theo looks back at us with discomfort, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have two brothers and a sister his age."

No one gets the chance to say anything else when a woman appears in the doorway with a skeptical look on her face. She eyes us warily, her eyes lingering on Theo's glinting watch, the Hugo Boss logo on his sweater, and his neat shoes.

"Yes?" Her voice is husky, the result of years of smoking.

"Mrs. Miles?" I ask hesitantly, a kind smile on my face to which she replies with a nod. "We wanted to ask you a few questions about your husband, Johnny Miles."

Her eyes widen. "If you've come all the way here, then you already know he's dead. There's nothing more to know," she hisses, pushing the door shut. She speaks with a heavy Bronx accent, her tongue fast and her A's turning into heavy O's.

Theo wedges his foot in the doorway. "We won't take much of your time."

"I said no!" Her snarl stuns me, and Theo pulls his foot back in time. It's then that I realize that she won't make it easy for us.

This time, Marli's hand keeps the door from shutting. She looks at the middle-aged woman with pleading eyes. "Please . . . I'm err—Marlowe Lui, Jack Lui's daughter."

The dead man's name silences the streets until only the distant sirens are heard. It resolves some of the hostility on her face, and her hands drop limply to her sides.

When she remains quiet, staring somewhere behind our heads, Marli continues. "I'm sorry for your loss, I know—I know how you feel. But we could help each other."

"Fine," she relents quietly, opening the door wider to let us in. "Come in."

We let her lead us through a narrow hallway, the width of Theo's frame, making us pile behind her in a line. The carpet on the ground has holes and questionable stains, the walls with paper peeling until we step into what seems to be a living room. It looks like a giant sat on the roof as it sagged terribly, and the windows are sealed shut with wooden blocks, leaving gaping holes for the wind to rush in and out. All three of us squeeze into a fabricated, hard couch, and the woman takes a wooden chair opposite to us.

A flare of orange catches my eye from the edge of the hallway—the little boy who greeted us at the doorway peaks his head out and glances at us curiously. Then, a second redhead pops above him. Twins. In the back of my mind, I recall the words somewhere in the headline report we looked at two days ago.

Mrs. Miles clears her throat. "Want anything to drink?"

"We're fine," I reply politely, shifting forward in my seat so I'm not compressed between Marli and Theo, eager to get to the point.

She nods and reaches into her bra to pull something out—a box of cigarettes. She lights one of the white rolls before sticking it between her thin, discolored lips. Theo, Marli, and I exchange glances, not knowing where to start, but the woman beats us to it. "What d'ya wanna know?"

Marli purses her lips. "Before my dad died, his visits to the factory had grown more frequent, spending all night there, acting weird and distant when he came back," she pauses, gauging any note of recognition on Mrs. Miles's face, but she remains distant, blowing grey smoke out of her mouth in disfigured shapes. "The two nights before he died, I practically saw him an hour a day. We knew he was up to something before he was gone."

"Well, I'm sorry for your loss," the woman says stiffly, deeply inhaling the smoke.

My patience is already running thin at her unwillingness to cooperate. She knows what we want to hear, but for some reason, she doesn't meet our eyes.

"Well?" I ask, the impatience coating my words.

"Hmm," is all she says, tracing the faded, abstract patterns on the arm of her couch. "I can't say much that'll be of help to ya, kids. Sorry."

Theo must sense my frustration because he puts a hand on my knee, shooting me a look before turning back to the woman with a patient expression. "Listen, we just want to know if there was anything suspicious going on before your husband died. The sooner you help us, the sooner we'll get out of your hair."

She narrows her eyes. "I said, I can't help ya. My husband's dead and there's nothin' you could do about it, son. So just gather your—"

"Ma'am, please," Marli interrupts her speech before it gets too loud, "It's no coincidence my father and your husband died at the hands of that evil man. And it could happen again unless we can stop it. Anything you say can help."

"Look, I signed a contract to my mouth shut," she exhales, mashing the butt of her cigarette on the bare glass of the coffee table. It leaves a pile of grey crumbs.

Next to me, Theo reaches in his back pocket to pull out his wallet. "Is it money that you want? Just say the price."

"I don't want any of ya fucking money," she spits out with so much animosity, but Theo's face remains unfazed, "I have two kids. Ten year olds, I tell yam and I need to keep them safe. I want to be guaranteed that nona' this comes out to anyone else."

"Mrs. Miles," I start, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes before looking back at her wrinkled face. "I can't make any promises, but we'll certainly try to keep your name out of the public. And if all goes well, you won't have to worry about that bastard because he'll be long gone."

It's the first time that I mention the outcome of this shaky plan out loud. I try to catch Theo's expression from the corner of my eye but he seems unaffected. Either he's a truly good actor, or he's fully pledged his allegiance to us.

It takes her a minute too long to answer us as she scratches her scalp, thinking my words over. "Johnny was a man too curious for his own good. Just like ya friend's father over there." She sighs, the sound heavy with nostalgia and yearning. "I tried to warn him, tried to tell him he was playin' with dangerous men, but he just didn't listen to me."

"What do you mean he was too curious?"

"I mean his nose was in places they shouldn't have been. Kept talkin' nonsense about secret meetings and illegal doings." She waves her hands around, her eyes sad. "then one day he was just gone. Machinery error, they say."

What little resolve Marl tried so hard to contain is beginning to crumble, and I can tell by the way her knee jumps up and down and her knuckles turning white as they grip her necklace. Taking her hands in mine, I give them a little squeeze.

"So you're saying he knew too much," Theo muses.

She shrugs and stands up in finality. "I'm saying he knew more than he should've. And I've told you more than I should've."

We stand up, knowing well enough this is all we are going to get out of her. She shows us out to the door, and I catch a glimpse of the twins looking at us through the creak of a door. A twinge of sadness strikes me at how young they are, forced to grow up without a father.

Before she can close the door, her face lights up as if remembering something. "You know, now that I think about it. He always mentioned somethin' about the first Monday of every month—an important meeting outside of work."

That might've been the most important piece of information we'd gotten all day. After a sweet thank you from Marli, we hop into the beautiful car and buckle our seatbelts.

"Well, that was something," I mutter.

Theo is deep in thought, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel while Marli's face is distant, still shaken up from the encounter that brought back too many memories.

I pull out my phone to check the time: half-past ten. We can still make it to school if we drive fast enough, but the thought of spending my third day under the suffocating stares of those pricks makes dread creep into me.

A buzz steals my attention, and I swipe at my phone, the unknown number making the dread sink deeper when I recognize the order of the displayed numbers.

I let out a shaky breath at the words on the screen. Theo looks at me in concern.

"Sage, what's wrong?"

"It's the number that texted me last week," I reply weakly, feeling a lump form in my throat as I read the words out loud:

Didn't I tell you not to play with the big guys? You shouldn't have gone today, little girl.