“They know we are accessing the network,” I said, my breath coming fast.

“Marcus?” he asked.

“Or Victoria,” I said. “Either way, our time just cut in half.”

He stood up and walked to the small window of the safehouse.

Rain smeared the glass, blurring the yellow taxi lights below.

“The gala is tonight,” Alexander said.

“Victoria is hosting the Crane Capital Foundation dinner at the museum.”

“The physical decryption key is in her office safe there,” I said. “She never keeps it at home.”

“Then we go tonight,” he said.

“It is too dangerous,” I told him. “Security will be tight, and Marcus’s people will be looking for you.”

“They are looking for me anyway,” he said, turning to face me.

“I need that key to decrypt my father’s files.”

I looked at my hands, still damp with sweat from the keyboard.

“I can get us in,” I said. “But we will need to look the part.”

We left the safehouse through the back alley.

The rain was coming down harder now, washing the grime of the city into the gutters.