Celeste POV

“Truth hides where the water runs darkest.”

The wind at Brooklyn Dock 9 smells like rust and secrets.

Even with Luca walking ahead, flashlight cutting through the mist, the shadows feel like they’re watching.

“Are you sure this is it?” I whisper. My voice bounces off corrugated metal, small and fragile against the hollow vastness of the dockyard.

“Coordinates match,” he mutters.

“This was one of Charles’s old holdings. If Daphne’s lead is right, this is where the ...