He didn’t walk toward any of the shops.

He stood by the rear fender, looking up at the second-floor windows of our building.

The light from his phone illuminated his face for a brief second.

It was the same man I had seen outside the boys’ school in Chicago last week.

One of Helena’s security detail.

“They didn’t just trace the server,” I said, my heart starting to pound against my ribs. “They knew where you were operating from.”

“The drive is at ninety percent,” Sarah said, her voice rising in pitch. “Just one more minute.”

“We can’t stay here,” I said.

I grabbed my coat from the back of the chair and pulled it on.

“Where are we going?” Sarah asked, her fingers hovering over the mouse.

“We have to go to New York,” I said. “We have to show this to Blake before Helena finds out we have the physical files.”

“Blake won’t see you, Emma,” Sarah said, looking up as the drive finished its click. “His lawyers have a wall around him.”

“He’ll see me for this,” I said, taking the silver drive and the three flash drives she handed me.