The vibration made a sharp, rattling sound against the metal trim.

I picked it up.

It was another message from Marta.

*She didn’t go to the airport, Evelyn.*

*She drove to the townhouse in Chelsea.*

*Bennett is there.*

I showed the screen to Julian.

“The Chelsea townhouse,” I said. “He kept that property in his cousin’s name.”

“He thinks no one knows about it,” Julian said.

“They are turning on each other,” I said. “Celeste knows the ship is sinking.”

“She went there to get her share before he loses everything,” Julian agreed.

“Priya, can you track Celeste’s phone location to confirm?” I asked.

“I am on it,” Priya said. “Her device just pinged a tower three blocks from the Chelsea High Line.”

“She is definitely there.”

I stood up and walked to the window.

Below, yellow cabs crawled through the Manhattan rain like little beetles.

The city looked vast, but our world had shrunk to a few square miles of betrayal and retribution.

“We need to get there,” I said.

“Evelyn, let the police handle it once the fraud charge is filed,” Julian warned.