“Just bruised,” he said, taking a ragged breath and straightening up with a grimace. “Who was on the phone?”

“It was Chloe,” I said, my voice shaking so hard my teeth clicked.

Liam looked at me, his brow furrowing as he wiped rain and sweat from his forehead.

“Chloe? Where is she?”

“She’s at the old charity hall,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “The one Beatrice burned down.”

Liam’s grip on my arm tightened, his fingers digging into my coat.

“She said Beatrice is hunting her,” I whispered, looking down at his flashlight beam trembling on the floor. “She found the ledger, Liam. Beatrice knows.”

“We have to call Holt,” Liam said immediately, pulling out his own phone with his free hand.

He tapped the screen, but his face fell as he stared at the display.

“No signal down here,” he muttered, gesturing to the thick concrete walls of the basement stairwell. “Let’s move. Now.”

We ran out into the alley, the cold coastal rain stinging my face and neck.

The streetlights cast long, shivering reflections on the wet asphalt of the city.