Behind us, the SUV was still maneuvering, its headlights sweeping across the brick facades of the abandoned warehouses.

Adrian turned off our headlights, plunging us into the gloom.

He navigated by the faint glow of the distant streetlights and the moon bleeding through the thick fog.

He turned left, then a quick right, diving deeper into the labyrinth of the industrial waterfront.

Finally, he killed the engine and drifted to a halt in the deep shadow of an old brick loading dock.

The silence that followed was heavy and immediate.

The only sound was the ticking of our cooling engine and the rapid rhythm of my own breathing.

“Are you alright?” Adrian asked.

His voice was remarkably steady, though his fingers were still locked tight around the steering wheel.

“I’m fine,” I lied, my chest tightening. “Did they follow us?”

Adrian looked in the rearview mirror.

“No,” he said. “We lost them. For now.”

He reached down and retrieved his phone from the passenger footwell where it had fallen.

He stared at the screen.

The call with Julian had disconnected.