w Thomas Gray, the instructions sounded so simple, but they pulled her into deeper waters than she was ready to wade. Claire, restless, dozed uneasily on the sofa, she muttered Henry

ignore the message, she

n shutters, children in uniforms scurrying off to school. Nyra pulled her coat tight against the chill and told herself she was merely making inquiries. The depot was a squat brick

y, yet his eyes carried the weariness of a man who had witnessed mor

cted me?" He glanced around, then beckoned her toward a side door, "Not here, too many ears." They stepped into the alley behind the depot, the air smelled of

y've vanished." Nyra held up the folded letter, "He said to follow you, that you know the rest." Thomas exhaled smoke, studying her as though weighing her courage. Finally, he dropped th

f he really knows more, we both need to hear it." Nyra hesitated. "Henry told me to trust you but I don't know if I can trust him." Claire's eyes softened, "We have little choice, if we want to find Henry, we follow the trail." The afternoon stretched heavy, they paced

d two men, then a third, boots crunching gravel. The same pursuers from the warehouse, the leader's sharp features twisted into a grin. "Well," he drawled, "the runaway, the messenger, and Mercer's little ghost. All together, how convenient," Nyra stomach lurched, Claire pressed closer to her side. Thomas's hand slipped into his coat, emerging with a revolver. He aimed steadily at the men, "Stay back." The leader chuckled, "You think one gun will stop us? You don't even know what you're holding. That ledger belongs to us, hand it over, and maybe we'll let the women walk away." Nyra pulse thundered, she realized then that the bell in her satchel was still with her, a small absurd weight against her hip. Thomas' voice was steel, "Not a chance." The men lunged, gunfire cracked the air, echoing against the metal tower. Nyra dropped to the ground, pulling Claire with her, sparks flew as a bullet struck the beam overhead. Thomas fired again, one pursuer falling with a cry, the leader roared, charging forward. He slammed Thomas against the tower's base, the revolver clattering to the ground. They grappled, fists and elbows flying, Nyra scrambled for the weapon, her hands shaking, she'd never held a gun before. Her fingers brushed the cold metal, but a boot stamped down, pinning it. One of t

ger Henry, nor even the men pursuing him. It was the ledger, the bell, the dangerous weight of secrets now tangled in her quiet life. She whispered to herself, half-prayer, half-promise