Dominic’s POV

For three days, I’ve been following a ghost. Every record says Elia Hale died fifteen years ago the official line, the autopsy, the sealed file signed by Stanley himself. But ghosts don’t leave new fingerprints.

And hers just showed up in Lisbon.

The security footage was grainy, taken from a marina checkpoint: a woman stepping off a ferry, hooded, carrying a duffel. Average height. Pale hair. But the way she moved shoulders tense, right hand brushing her pocket like she ...