Bennett stared at the screen.

His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths.

The arrogance in his posture seemed to fracture, just a little.

“Forty million,” Bennett muttered to himself.

“It’s gone, Bennett,” I said.

“It’s over,” I added.

He looked at Marta, then looked back at the edge of the roof.

“If I go down, Evelyn, I’m taking everything you love with me,” he said.

He raised his arm, preparing to fling the heavy notebooks into the dark, wet Manhattan air.

“No!” I cried out, lunging forward.

Julian caught my arm, pulling me back.

“Wait,” Julian whispered.

At that exact moment, the phone in Bennett’s pocket began to vibrate.

The harsh, buzzing sound cut through the noise of the wind and rain.

Bennett froze, his arm still raised.

He slowly lowered his hand and reached into his coat pocket.

He pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.

The caller ID lit up.

It was an international number.

“It’s them,” Bennett whispered.

He looked at me, his face pale under the terrace lights.

“Answer it,” I said.

“Tell them the truth,” I added.