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“Just checkin'.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The hum tells me she doesn't believe me at all.

“I'm serious. Everythin’ alright at the diner?”

“Everythin’s fine.” I hear dishes clatter in the background. “Lunch crowd's keepin’ us busy, and Doris is still complainin’ about her ex-husband even though she's been divorced longer than you've been alive.”

I smile. “Sounds about right.”

“Now what's got you callin’ in the middle of the day to check on me?”

I hesitate just long enough to regret it. “Nothin’. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

Her sigh comes through the line. “Maggie Mae.”

“Mama.”

“You call if you need me.”

Those words have been comforting me my whole life. “I will.”

“I mean it.”

We talk for another minute before hanging up. The apartment is still waiting for me when the call ends, along with every question spinning through my head, but hearing Mama's voice and knowing she's safe makes it a little easier to breathe.

I slide the phone into my pocket.

“Is Miss Teresa alright?” Jules asks.

“Yeah.”

He nods once. “Good.”

Luka appears in the doorway. His eyes go from Jules to me and back again. “What happened?”

“Apartment,” Jules says.

Luka straightens and steps fully into the office. “Explain.”

I repeat the conversation with Mr. Harrison while Luka listens without interrupting. His face reveals almost nothing, but by the time I finish, he's already reaching for his phone.

“You told Alexei?”

“Yes. He's on his way.”

The next thirty minutes crawl. I answer emails, reread the same paragraph three times, then realize I haven't absorbed a single word. I attempt to organize paperwork and spend five minutes staring at the same stack of forms without touching them. Every possibility grows larger the longer I sit with it.

Maybe somebody wanted valuables. Maybe somebody wanted information. Maybe somebody was looking for me.

That final possibility refuses to leave. The more I think about it, the harder it becomes to believe any of this is a coincidence. Not after the shelter. Not after the market. Not after the threats and the shooting. The apartment feels connected to all of it somehow. I just don't know how yet.

The front doors open shortly after one o'clock. My body knows who entered before my mind catches up. By the time I look up, Alexei is walking through the entrance with Viktor beside him.

His eyes meet mine across the lobby, then move quickly over me, checking for injuries he knows aren't there. Satisfied, he closes the remaining distance.

“Are you ready?”