Page 64 of Shadow Of Sin

I shrug. “I was listening.”

“You were staring at the wall.”

“I can do both.” I slant a glance at Eva.

Her mouth twitches from across the table. She doesn’t look up from her screen, but I catch it.

We’re gathered in the conference room to map out the trap for Dmitri’s warehouse hit. Eva, Lochlan, Adriana, and I sit around the long table going through logistics. Ronan’s in his office on a call. Gavin is somewhere doing whatever Gavin does when there’s nothing to punch and maim. Cillian’s at Venom, but checking in with me by text every hour because he can’t help himself.

Adriana lays out the building specs. Lochlan maps the security gaps. Eva cross-references everything against the Renaldi calendar. And I’m supposed to be building the digital layer of the trap…the fake data Dmitri will find when he gets inside.

I am building it. I’m also keeping track of the eleven hair tucks and the fact that Eva switched from the pen behind her ear to a pencil today, and the way she taps her fingertips on the table when she’s thinking. It’s different from my thumb tap but serves the same purpose.

We’re the same. That’s the thing my brain keeps circling back to. Yeah, we’re wired differently, and we suffered different damage, but we’re very much alike. We process the world through patterns. We hide what we feel because feeling shit got us hurt. We’re better with systems than people.

Except I’m starting to think she might be a person my system was designed for, and I don’t know what to do with that thought so I just let it loiter, taking up space next to “not yet.”

Adriana asks Eva a question about the financial data. Eva answers without hesitation, pulling up a spreadsheet she built that connects three shell corporations to a single address. Adriana leans forward and studies it.

“This is thorough,” Adriana says.

“I’ve had practice,” Eva says.

“Clearly.” Adriana looks at her. “Have you ever considered doing this kind of work legitimately? Forensic accounting firms would kill for someone with your skillset.”

Eva’s fingers stop moving over the keyboard. For about two seconds, she’s completely still. Then she starts typing again, and with a shake of her head says, “I’m a convicted felon. No legitimate company will touch me.”

“I might know people who would,” Adriana says.

Eva looks up, a flicker in her expression. It’s not hope. It’s that thing you feel when someone suggests the impossible and you haven’t decided yet whether or not to believe them.

“Maybe,” Eva says, a faint smile stretching across her face. “After this is over.”

“After this is over,” Adriana says in a firm voice. And she means it. I can tell because Adriana DiMicheli Molloy doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean.

And the possibility lights me up a little bit. I can’t lie.

After this is over.

Eva said it like she believes there’s an after. A week ago, she didn’t. A week ago, she was surviving day to day with no finish line.

Something changed.

And I don’t think it’s just the operation.

About an hour later, Lochlan and Adriana head to Ronan’s office. Eva stays at the table, scrolling through data, her chin in her hand as she peers at the monitor.

I stay too. Because I can’t make myself leave.

Leave her.

I get up to grab a bottle of water from the side table. I walk behind her chair to get to it. My hand brushes the back of her shoulder as I pass.

I didn’t mean to do that. Or maybe I did. I don’t know anymore. The line between accidental contact and deliberate contact has been blurring all week, and I’ve stopped trying to figure out which side I’m on.

She doesn’t flinch or look up. But her typing pauses for exactly one second.

I pick up a bottle, twist off the cap, and walk back. This time I don’t touch her. But I pass close enough behind that she’d feel the air shift, and her head tilts about two degrees toward me as I go by.