I take one last check in the mirror, making sure the vibrant red extensions and fake nose ring are in place and look convincing. It's a simple disguise, but it's also ridiculously effective. One thing I've learned is the more attention you draw to yourself, the less people look.

All it takes is a bold look, and suddenly, you're pretty much faceless. People will pick out and recall the broad strokes and forget the details. "We good to go?" I ask ARTI as he does one last scan of the room.

"No traces of DNA or fingerprints left behind. Everything is exactly as it was when we arrived." He replies, showing me the overlay over what's in front of us.

"Perfect. Onward and upward—or plummeting downward, in my case." I mumble to myself and hold on to the straps of my bag. The street is quiet as I slip out like—well, like a Phantom. No one ever saw me come in or out, and now no one will ever know I was here at all.

I quickly make my way to the train station, slipping through security with ease despite the small armory I always have with me. Another perk of having lived with some of the world's top spies and being able to manipulate what people see. All it takes is a box with fake 'important documents' and a false bottom. Once you add in a little manipulation to what someone sees, they forget to ask questions and assume their senses are right.

Mine seem to be permanently stuck on high alert. I keep my sunglasses on, because of the light and to help hide where I'm looking. It's a trick that I inadvertently learned from Dad—or maybe he learned it from me. I like to think the latter, because it means I was able to pass something on to him.

I keep watching anyone around me, fists constantly at the ready, and shadows primed for a fight. ARTI scans the faces and bags of the other passengers as I move through the car. Each one is run through the international databases and stored for later. It helps ease my mind when we're fighting and be chased by a faceless and nameless group.

My head is pounding from the light pouring in through the open window, but the most I can do is adjust my glasses. ARTI takes note and dims the lenses. "No repeat encounters and no one here as any sort of record."

I open up my tablet and insert a command to ARTI, "Good. Keep an eye out for strange activity." He pulls up the feed of every angle of the train and a video game? I stare at it in confusion. I never downloaded a video game on here. "What the—?"

"Play it." ARTI tells me, "It will help pass the time and distract you. I'll keep watch and alert you the instant anything happens."

It's hard to argue. He's right, even if he is annoying about it. This is going to be a four and a half hour train ride, which will is already starting to feel like an eternity. So, as much as I don't want to let my guard down, I give in and start playing the silly game.

The hours still drag by, but they don't weigh as heavily as they usually do. I have to admit, despite the idea of being stuck in metal car with strangers that could also be one of the many people after me or that could recognize me, this wasn't a horrible trip.

I grab my bag, adjusting the strap over my shoulder as I head out of the station. "Directing you to nearest motel that fits parameters." ARTI immediately displays a bright blue line on the ground leading me through the city. "You'll have to take the ferry to get to the main island."

Luckily, the ferry is just across from the train platforms, and I hop on the next ferry to the main island. I can't help but admire the city as the boat drives through the larger canals. It makes my chest ache a little more than usual. Being here brings back memories of my summer's with Dad—in the time between moving to New York and Thanos. We used to play darts with a map of Europe and spend the whole summer traveling to all the places we 'picked.'

It feels strange to be back without him, and even more so knowing that within a day, Peter and the others will be here as well. I hop off the ferry at the first stop and make the walk to the hotel, which is on the other side of the city from where Dad and I stayed before, but I can't exactly stay in a five star hotel and remain under the radar.

"Wow. You sure know how to pick them, huh?" I ask ARTI as the hotel comes into view. The exterior is dirty and weather worn. It looks like they tried to repair it a few years ago and gave up, and now, the poor place is slowly sinking into the sea. Still, I've definitely stayed in worse places. I whisper to myself as I give up and head inside, "Please, just don't let this place have rats."

The lobby is dingy, dusty, and drab. The floor beyond the initial patch of tile work is torn up with water flooding beneath it, which isn't too surprising. I appreciate that they at least put down a plank for guests to get across without soaking their feet. I nod at the usual oddities, which in this case is a glass cabinet full of antiques, and the classic bar full of half empty bottles. There's an odd mix of folding and what I assume must have been chairs for the tables they original had, and an orange and white cat lounging top them. I silently hope that means there won't be any rodents.

The elderly man behind the desk smiles at me as I enter, and I barely manage to return to gesture. "Hello. How can I help you?" I'm once again grateful for ARTI's real time translation program, which helps me understand the man's thickly accented Italian.

"I need a room—one with a balcony if you have it." I tell him in the best Italian I can manage on such short notice.

"How long will you be staying?"

"I'm not sure yet." A moment's hesitation flickers across his face, which isn't surprising. With these run-down hotels, they're usually used to being skipped out on. "I can pay two nights up front, if that helps."

"It does." He replies and holds out his hand for the money. Once I hand it over, he gives me the key. "Room twelve. Up the stairs, end of the hall."

"Grazie." I call and head towards the stairs, only pausing for a moment to pet the cat, which purrs in contentment at the gesture. It makes me crack a smile before I come back to myself and head up the stairs, which creaks under my feet.

I unlock the door and swing it open to another dingy hotel room. It's definitely better than some of the places I've stayed. There's a mattress and a dirty couch, which counts for something, I guess. It at least has the balcony like I wanted.

"How much longer until they arrive?" I ask ARTI as I grab the sensors and place them on the balcony's edges and the outer side of the main door's frame. "And let's run a test on the sensors. I need to know that they're in the right place."

"They're scheduled to arrive in approximately twenty-three hours, and the sensors are running at peak efficiency." ARTI replies, and I nod. "I suggest you try to get some rest. You haven't been sleeping like you should."

I let out a heavy sigh and rub my temple. "Yeah, well it's kind of hard to sleep when you're being hunted—and, ya know, anxiously waiting for even a glimpse of your boyfriend—if we're technically still together that is." My heart turns to lead in my chest as I sit down on the mattress. "Why didn't I think this through before coming? He could have moved on by now and not even want to see me. He could be dating someone else by now."

"I'm fairly certain he hasn't. There has been no signs of a relationship from my observations."

"Yeah, but even you don't see everything." I pause and look at the bright city outside. "I should have just kept going. You know what, forget this. ARTI, set up a route to our next stop."

"No." He replies and clears my lenses in protest. "You came out here for a reason, and you need to see it through."

"Don't argue with me right now, or I can and will reboot you. Or, better yet, I'll start using EDITH so she can get some real world experience." ARTI stays quiet for a moment, and I think he's about to give in when there's a bunch of noise echoing from downstairs. My brain immediately switches into fight mode. "Get me a view of the hallway."

The feed flickers on my lenses, and I nearly vomit at the sight of the familiar faces approaching various doors. "ARTI? I thought you told me they didn't get here until tomorrow."

"I may have purposefully misspoken." He replies. "I knew you were likely to reconsider."

"So you lied?"

"Yes, but only to help you."

"Did you know they were going to stay here? And more importantly, do you know where they're going?"

"Of course I do, they're scheduled to take a tour of the Da Vinci Museum at three o'clock, even though they aren't aware it's closed for the season. If you leave in a few minutes, you'll be able to make it past them undetected."

"You had this planned the whole time?"

"I've been you companion for over five years. I know you well enough to plan for nearly anything." He replies, and if he were human, I swear he'd be smiling. "I should also advise you that Peter's room just across the hall."

I try to ignore the way my heart screams at the mere mention of his name. "Keep an eye on the hallway. I'm going to change into something that doesn't smell like Munich and a four hour train ride."

My body is sluggish as I sort through my bag to grab a new set of clothes. A part of me still can't believe this is real. I've been on my own, running from place to place, for six months, and now one of the people I love most in the world is just across the hall in the same crummy Venetian hotel as I am without even knowing it.

I slip on a fresh change of clothes and throw my bag back on my shoulder before slipping out into the now empty hallway. The rest of my friends and classmates are all in their rooms, and I can hear their chattering conversation through the thin doors. It makes me smile at how happy they all sound.

On my way out, I pass an arguing Mr. Harrington and Mr. Dell. It seems they can't agree on who has to take what shift of chaperoning. The man in the lobby offers me a smile and a wave as I pass him. "Addio, signore." I call over my shoulder, feigning a cheerful mood that I don't even remotely feel.

The sun shimmers on the muddled green waters in the canal. I let myself enjoy it as I wander around the streets of Venice and take the long way to the museum. All the while, I can't stop thinking of the time Dad and I visited. It was part of our summer adventures. I guess it was his way of making up for lost time. He always made sure to make every second count, and he did.

"They're leaving the hotel. I've highlighted the route that'll get you there before them." ARTI says as he displays another bold blue line on the ground. After a moment of silence, he speaks again, "Are you ready to see him again?"

"Honestly, I don't know." I reply with my phone pressed to my ear so I don't look absolutely insane. "I'm still a little scared."

"You shouldn't be. I still have all the surveillance footage of how he would look at you—even when you weren't looking. The boy has been madly in love with you since two and a half months after you met."

"Two and a half months?"

"Yes, I made note of it since you fell in love with him after the first six weeks of knowing him." ARTI replies and shows me the compilation of data he has in his memory banks. "Heads up, their entering the courtyard. Seven o'clock."

I do my best to be casual as I 'hang up' my phone and keep walking through the crowd. It takes me a few breaths to gather my courage, but once I have it, I glance over to where ARTI said to see them. The whole group is halfway across the courtyard, and my heart drops when I can't even catch a glimpse of my friends.

They slowly begin to disperse, and I feel my heart take a quick break from beating as I spot him—Peter. His hair is just as messy as I remember, eyes scanning the crowd as he breaks away, and I quickly have to look away to avoid suspicion. It makes everything feel more vivid just seeing him.

I duck under an overhang and pause for a second to catch my breath. "Is seeing him really that terrifying? You're heart rate's drastically elevated." My eyes screw shut as I try to make the world stop spinning under my feet. "Not that this will help, but he's approaching your position."

"Crap." I mutter and start walking to a narrow stretch of shops. There are boutiques and the usual tourist destinations, which I quickly ignore too scared that he or one of my friends will end up in there. Instead, I push through the crowd until it thins out, and I spot the one little shop Dad and I discovered when we first came.

It's easy to miss if you don't know it's there—or if you don't happen to stumble by. The front is cluttered with old frames, portraits, and a few plants. Just past it you can see the skyline of mainland Italy, but the real beauty is inside the tiny, jam-packed space, where an old gentleman sits crafting glass into art. If you're lucky—like Dad and I were—he'll tell you about his craft and the history behind Murano glass.

I remember spending hours listening and watching in fascination as he worked. Dad and I both agreed it was a honor to see a master at work, and to remember it, he bought me the most beautiful vase that we would keep on the table and filled with fresh flowers.

That place is a beautiful memory, which is why I keep going around the corner. I lean against the weather worn stone and listen to the water lapping and splashing. My head is clouded with longing to go back to a year ago, or six technically since the Blip happened. I'd give anything for just five minutes—with Dad, with the REM Trials not forcing me to constantly keep moving, with those small moments with Peter, and with small moments of happiness.

"He's still approaching." ARTI tells me, and I almost swear out loud.

"Do you think he knows?"

"Honestly, I think he's following directions on his phone." I furrow my brow and listen to the approaching footsteps. They stop around the corner. I decide to take the chance, altering the light so no one can see me, and peer around the corner. Peter stands there, double checking his phone as he stands in front of the shop, and after a long minute, I realize how he knew about it—I told him all about it and every other place Dad and I visited.

It makes my eyes well up at the realization that he really listened. He remembered everything. Now, he's here—heading to this hidden gem in Venice. Beneath all the whirlpool of emotions, there's a question. Why?

I creep around the corner and listen. The sound of his voice makes me want to cry more. All he says is a simple, "Buongiorno." Yet it makes my knees go weak and realize just how much I missed him these past months.

The old gentleman looks up with a smile as he looks at Peter. "Buongiorno. Come posso aiutarla?"

It doesn't take having to see Peter's face to know he's internally panicking. "Hi, uh, I'm looking for a—uh—necklace."

"Special woman in your life?" The old gentleman questions, his accent thickly covering the English until it sounds like something entirely new.

"Yeah, a very special woman." My heart drops to the ground and shatters at that. He must have moved on. I mean, why would he be talking like that when he hasn't seen me in six months? Answer: he wouldn't.

I shake my head and walk away. It hurts too much. I know this was pretty much bound to happen, but it doesn't make it any less painful. Tears stream down my face, and I forget to make some stupid fake-out before giving up on hiding right now.

It's hard to concentrate on anything, but I maintain the small fraction of my attention to wipe my eyes as I my way back to the main courtyard. My head is screaming, hands shake, and heart pounds. "Lia," ARTI calls, cutting through the static filling my brain, "you're blood sugar is dropping, and you haven't eaten since yesterday."

I groan, knowing he won't stop bugging me until I listen to him. It's not like he's wrong. My stomach is growling, but I've been far too nervous to eat anything. And it really doesn't help that using my the light half of my abilities drains me more than hours of shadow manipulation.

ARTI leads me to a restaurant and hacks into the system to get me a reservation. I collapse into the seat the hostess leads me to. It's a nice little spot under an umbrella at the cafe's courtyard seating.

I sit back, watching the clusters of people and my former classmates. It's oddly relaxing. The warm sun on my skin and fresh air all around. For a split second, I let my senses kick off high alert. ARTI's watching the entire area, which helps ease my nerves.

My head starts to clear and nerves calm down once I get some water and some of the best Sfogliatella I've ever had—but maybe that's just the low blood sugar and hunger speaking. I slowly begin to realize just how ridiculous this all is—risking so much to come to Venice for a glimpse of someone who's probably moved on by now.

Speaking of, he rounds the corner with a small gold bag in hand and a smile painted on his face that makes my heart ache. I mean, I'm happy that he's happy, but I wish I was the one making him smile. I miss that feeling.

My train of thought is interrupted as MJ walks out of the cafe and right up to Peter. "Boh." She states, and I would laugh if it didn't give me away or make me look insane. Of course, MJ would find the one word with a hundred different meanings that can get you out of most situations in the most straightforward way.

I try to ignore the look of pure panic on Peter's face as he hides the bag behind his back. It just confirms my suspicion. He moved on, and honestly, I'm not surprised it would be MJ. There was a time that he thought he liked her, and I guess he went back to that.

Suddenly the rest of my food seems terribly unappealing, and I toss down a couple euro on the table to cover the bill and tip. My chest aches too much to follow them, and I decide to walk around before catching up with them.

Right now, as much effort as I put into getting here, I can't watch him crush on one of my best friends. It's the equivalent of digging my heart out of my chest with a dirty spoon. I have no desire to put myself through the immediate and lingering pain.

I make it out the courtyard and into a little open market before the screaming starts. People are screaming and shoving each other as the water comes rushing through. It knocks my feet out from under me, and I'm pretty sure I hit my head and body against one of the tables while simultaneously being pummeled with loose fruit.

Just as quickly as it came, it rushes back, and I struggle to regain my footing amidst the panicked crowd. "ARTI, where's Peter?"

"I can't quite pinpoint him, but judging by his last known location and his personal history, he's probably in the middle of this." I take a hesitant step forward and attempt to gather my energy to help before I'm given a mild shock. "You can't help him. It's too public and would put you at greater risk than you are right now."

"So what? I'm just supposed to leave him?"

"Regrettably, yes. You need to trust that he can handle himself like he has before and keep out of sight." ARTI argues, and I really wish for once he was wrong.

I hate myself for turning away, for running with the crowd, and most of all for leaving Peter to fight whatever this is alone. It's not what he would do. It's not what Dad would have done. But, I know neither of them would let me do anything else under the circumstances. They'd tell me to keep going and stay safe.

Still, it doesn't stop me from hating myself for it.