I hired Mara because everyone in the city called her a thief—and because I needed my family to believe I was desperate enough to trust anyone.

Three months later.

The ocean breeze was warm, carrying the clean, salty scent of the Atlantic into the sun-drenched sunroom of our new coastal home.

Leo sat on the floor, his cheeks rosy and full of life as he built a massive Lego spaceship. His heart rate monitor, once a constant, terrifying presence in our lives, had been removed weeks ago. Without the slow poison of the Aegis Labs medicine, his young body had recovered with miraculous speed.

I stood by the glass doors, holding a cup of hot coffee, watching him play.

"He looks good, Julian," a voice said from behind me.

I turned to see Mara standing in the doorway, dressed in a comfortable linen shirt and jeans. She didn't look like a thief or a security specialist today; she looked like a woman who had finally found a moment of peace.

"He is good, Mara," I said, handing her a cup of tea. "The doctors say his heart is completely clear of the toxins. He'll be starting school in the fall."

"And your family?" she asked.

"Beatrice and Victoria are currently awaiting trial in a federal detention facility," I said, looking down at my coffee. "The Macau syndicate was completely dismantled by the federal raid last month. Dr. Sterling is cooperating with the prosecution to save himself from a life sentence."

Mara walked over to Leo, kneeling down to help him attach a wing to his spaceship. Leo smiled up at her, his big brown eyes filled with a simple, pure trust.

"What are you going to do now, Mara?" I asked. "The city still thinks you're a thief."