For a long while I sit on the edge of the bed, watching Sandi sleep, her bruised shoulder catching the light—deep wine-blue, cuts edged in shadow, finger imprints faded but still visible. Not play. Not conquest. Just the evidence of survival. It’s almost peaceful, this hush. Sandi sleeps, breathing even; I tuck the blanket higher…

I curl up in the armchair by the bed, bare feet tucked against the cushion, watching the slow rise and fall of Sandi’s chest. A soft but firm knock interrupts my thoughts. I open the door to find Mikael standing there, coat unbuttoned, eyes slate in the corridor light. “Tarmo would like a word,” he…

Tarmo waited until Mikael’s breathing settled before reaching for the secure channel. The suite felt smaller with the door closed. He poured a glass he wouldn’t drink—habit, not thirst—and keyed in the feed. Karim’s face bloomed first, grainy. Then Mitra’s, backlit by amber. “The codes,” Tarmo said. “You have them.” Not a question. Karim inclined…

The Ledger The corridor to the far sauna suite was silent but for the muted creak of old floorboards under Tarmo’s steps. He didn’t speak, didn’t glance back to see if Mikael was following. There was nothing to say yet, and too much to be said all at once. Inside, the air soaked them in…