My mother called my six-year-old daughter “a burden” at Christmas dinner, so I took her presents and walked out—but by New Year’s, Grandma was begging for a second chance.

"We need proof of life regarding your daughter's safety before we negotiate," Campbell said loudly, leaning toward the microphone.

A soft chuckle came through the receiver. "Do not test my intelligence, Agent Campbell. We are well aware that your agents have relocated the child to the safehouse in Middlesex County. A quiet farmhouse, two armed guards, a blue federal sedan in the driveway. It is picturesque."

My heart stopped. Ice flooded my veins.

"If you touch her—" I began, my voice raw and trembling with animal rage.

"We have not touched her," the man replied calmly. "Because we are gentlemen of commerce, Mrs. Vance, not barbarians. But if you do not arrive at Dock 14 at midnight, alone with the key and the ledger, my associates outside that farmhouse will receive a very simple instruction. Midnight. Dock 14. Do not disappoint us."

The line went dead.

"Trace confirmed!" one of the tech agents shouted. "The call originated from a burner tower near Casco Bay! But we've got a breach at the Middlesex safehouse perimeter—someone severed their landline communications three minutes ago!"

"Move, move, move!" Campbell bellowed, grabbing his tactical jacket and shouting orders into his radio. "Deploy the Boston rapid response team to Middlesex! I want tactical air support over that farmhouse right now!"

"Campbell, they're watching the house right now!" I yelled, grabbing his arm, my eyes blazing with terror and determination. "If your teams swarm the farmhouse, they will strike before you get there!"

Campbell stopped, staring at me, the gravity of the situation weighing on both of us. "Then what do you propose, Emma?"

"We play the game," I said, my voice hardening into steel. "The syndicate wants the key and the ledger. That means their main enforcers will be at Dock 14 to collect it. You send a silent extraction team to secure Lily, but I go to the docks."

"Emma, that's suicide. They won't leave you alive once they have the key."

"They will if the key is useless without me," I replied, pointing to the cipher book on the table. "Dr. Thorne said this ledger requires a two-factor verification at the vault in Geneva. Arthur programmed it to require a biometric match from the trustee. That's me."