When we pulled up outside Lizzie’s, the neon sign flickered to life against the evening gloom, illuminating a gritty but familiar stretch of street. We parked and made our way to the door, where Rita stood leaning against the frame.

  “Well, look who finally decided to show up. You know you’ve got some balls coming here,” Rita said, annoyed.

  “Where’s Suzi?” I asked.

  Rita rolled her eyes. “Downstairs. Can’t say I’m surprised she’s still willing to talk to you.”

  With a dismissive wave, she stepped aside to let us in.

  “Damn, Max, what the hell did you do to piss her off?” Luca whispered, concern creeping into his voice.

  I sighed, feeling the heat of embarrassment. “Let’s just say I agreed to help certain people with a situation but never followed through.”

  As I descended the dimly lit staircase, the familiar glow of Suzi’s computer screen illuminated her focused expression. She was seated comfortably in a worn-out chair, fingers dancing across the keyboard with practiced efficiency.

  "You’ve really made yourself at home with the Mox," I remarked, attempting to inject some levity into the tense atmosphere, but the irritation etched on her face was unmistakable.

  Without looking up from her monitor, Suzi retorted, “So who is it I'm supposed to be looking for? Some punk you need me to eliminate?” The bite in her tone made it clear that she wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

  I let out a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of my own forgetfulness. “Suzi, I completely forgot. I wanted to help, but I got caught up with a million other things that I lost track of time.”

  With a sharp turn, Suzi rotated her chair to face Luca and Henry. “At least Henry’s still loyal to you,” she noted dryly, then her gaze drifted to Luca. “And who is the pompous douchebag with the gelled hair?” she added, her distaste evident.

  Luca took a step forward, as if to defend himself, but hesitated—he didn’t know Suzi as I did.

  “Look,” Henry intervened, trying to ease the tension, “why don’t we let you handle this?” I watched as they exited the room, leaving me alone with Suzi.

  “How bad was it?” I asked, my voice low, knowing we had to discuss the escalating situation with the Tyger Claws.

  “Pretty bad,” she replied, her voice steady but laced with concern. “A few of the girls were killed, but we managed to strike a deal with them. I just don’t know how long it’ll hold.” Her admission hung heavy in the air.

  “Fuck…” I whispered, the reality of our grim situation hitting me like a punch to the gut.

  “What is it you need from me?” Suzi asked, her tone shifting as we moved back to business.

  Handing over the datashard, I replied, “Can you find out who wrote this ransom note?”

  She took the shard with a flick of her wrist and slotted it into her computer. “Should take a few seconds. Why? Someone’s looking to expose your past?” she probed, her curiosity piqued.

  “No, not mine,” I corrected her, feeling a jolt of anxiety.

  “Then whose?” Her persistence was a double-edged sword.

  “Don’t worry about it; just find them,” I insisted, trying to maintain some control over the conversation.

  Suzi paused her typing, her expression turning serious. “So is this how our friendship works now? You use me for something, and I get nothing in return? You're lucky I’m even still willing to talk to you. Cut the secrecy bullshit and tell me who’s getting blackmailed.”

  “Peralez,” I whispered, ensuring the name didn't carry beyond the two of us.

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  Suzi's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She whistled softly, then resumed her rapid typing. “Must be someone important if they want to take down the mayor.”

  “Exactly,” I said, watching her fingers fly across the keyboard. “That’s why I need your netrunning skills to track this guy down.”

  Minutes dragged on as she worked, the hum of her computer the only sound in the room, until finally, her expression shifted. “Got it. This is where the datashard originated,” she said, her eyes wide with concentration.

  “Is that the place?” I asked, double-checking my instincts.

  “Yeah, that’s it. It’s registered to a Mrs. Barnes.” Suzi nodded, her tone now more business-like.

  I felt a surge of gratitude for her assistance, but knew we had to mend fences before leaving. “Listen, once this is over, I’ll help sort out whatever trouble you're having with the Tyger Claws. Deal?”

  Suzi locked her gaze onto mine, studying me. “Fine…” Her reluctance was noticeable, but at least it was a start.

  Regrouping with Henry and Luca, I relayed the information about our next move. With a determined nod, we left Lizzie’s and made our way to the location Suzi had provided, driving to the north side of Watson.

  We glanced around the dimly lit living room, searching for signs of life before approaching the front door with a mix of trepidation and resolve.

  KNOCK! KNOCK!

  The door creaked open, revealing an older woman with silvery hair pulled back into a loose bun, her warm eyes scrutinizing us with a blend of curiosity and caution.

  “Yes?” she asked, her voice soft yet firm.

  I took a deep breath, stepping slightly forward to take the lead. “Can we come in? We need to discuss something serious,” I said, trying to convey the urgency without causing alarm.

  The woman hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. “Of course,” she replied, her expression shifting to one of concern as she ushered me, Henry, and Luca inside. Once the door clicked shut behind us, she asked if we would like something to drink or if we were hungry.

  “I’ll have a glass of water,” Henry replied, his voice steady, while Luca and I exchanged silent glances and declined.

  The woman exuded a kindhearted aura that seemed at odds with our expectations. In the modestly furnished living room, the absence of any advanced technology felt almost comforting.

  “Are you familiar with computers?” Luca asked nonchalantly, pulling out a pocket of cigarettes as if to ease his nerves.

  Her brow furrowed slightly. “No. My son is more of a tech wizard than I am,” she said with a hint of pride, then noticed Luca's cigarettes.

  “Excuse me,” she interrupted gently, “if you’re planning on smoking, could you please do it outside? I've already had a talk with my husband about smoking indoors.”

  Luca slipped the packet back into his pocket, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his face.

  “Where is your son?” I asked, genuinely curious about who could possess the skills we needed.

  “He’s currently out. In fact, he should be back any second now,” Mrs. Barnes said, her eyes drifting toward the door.

  Just then, almost as if on cue, the front door opened with a soft thud, and in walked a young boy, no older than nineteen, holding a sleek hoverboard under one arm.

  The boy took in the scene, his brows knitting together as he turned to his mother.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, his curiosity piquing.

  Luca seized the opportunity. “You’re familiar with this datashard,” he said, tossing the shard over to the boy.

  The boy looked at the shard, his expression shifting from confusion to recognition as he processed the importance of our presence. In an instant, he dashed down the narrow hallway and disappeared into the basement, with Luca and I hot on his heels. We followed closely, our footsteps echoing against the polished wooden stairs, until he reached his desk.

  With frantic precision, the kid yanked open the drawer and pulled out a shiny tech pistol, brandishing it at us with trembling hands.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” he demanded, panic lacing his voice.

  I took a step forward to diffuse the tension. “Kid, you’re really not going to shoot anyone with that,” I said, adopting a calm demeanor despite the escalating situation.

  “Oh yeah? Try me!” he shot back defiantly, his finger twitching on the trigger.

  I took another slow step forward, maintaining eye contact. “No, seriously, the safety's off,” I warned.

  Furrowing his brow, the kid glanced down at the gun, checking the safety with a frown, his attention momentarily diverted from us.

  Seizing the moment, I lunged forward and swiftly disarmed him, snatching the pistol from his grip before tossing it over to Luca, who caught it effortlessly. With no options left, the boy raised his hands above his head, surrender etched on his face as he realized the gravity of the situation.