Chapter 9 - Shadows and Sunlight
Six months later, the streets of Florence were alive with the golden warmth of late spring.
The Uffizi Gallery was quiet this time of morning, the high vaulted ceilings echoing with the soft footsteps of art historians and conservators examining centuries-old masterpieces under bright restoration lights.
Nora Bennett stood on a rolling wooden scaffolding platform, a fine-tipped brush in her hand, delicately restoring the gold-leaf detailing on a 15th-century Florentine altarpiece. Her hair was caught up in a loose clip, her smock dusted with pigment and chalk.
She looked happy. Truly, deeply, radiantly happy.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans. She set her brush down, wiped her hands on a cloth, and pulled out the device.
A single text message flashed on the screen from an encrypted number:
“The weather in Florence suits you. But the harbor is awfully quiet without you. Pack a bag. I’m coming for dinner.”
Nora let out a soft, breathless laugh, a bright smile breaking across her face. She looked out the tall arched window of the gallery toward the bustling piazza below, where a sleek black town car was idling by the curb, and a tall, unmistakable figure in a dark suit was stepping out onto the cobblestones, looking up toward her window.
Cameron Vance was a forgotten ghost, rotting in a federal holding facility three thousand miles away.
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Dante Alatorre was here.
And for the first time in her life, Nora knew she wasn't running anymore. She was exactly where she belonged.
