The snow followed them all the way to the car.
Naomi slid into the passenger seat without speaking, the folded map resting heavy in her coat pocket. Keene pulled into traffic slow, eyes flicking between mirrors like he expected the SUV to appear at any second.
"Which one?" he asked quietly.
Naomi pulled the map out, spreading it across her knees.
Two red circles stared back at her.
One near the river.
One deeper into the industrial side of the city — warehouses, dead streets, places people stopped looking years ago.
She tapped the industrial mark.
"Hollow liked quiet," she said. "Places nobody hears screams."
Keene nodded once and turned the wheel.
⸻
The warehouse district felt colder than the rest of the city.
Streetlights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across cracked pavement. Rusted fences rattled in the wind. The building marked on the map sat half-hidden behind a collapsed loading dock, windows black, door hanging crooked.
Naomi's chest tightened.
"This feels too easy," she muttered.
"It never is," Keene replied.
They stepped out together, boots crunching against frozen gravel.
Keene's hand stayed near his coat — not threatening, just ready.
Naomi moved toward the door first.
The metal groaned as she pushed it open.
Inside, the air smelled like dust and old oil.
Empty.
Too empty.
Her eyes scanned the room — crates stacked against the walls, a broken forklift, footprints frozen in thin layers of grime.
Someone had been here recently.
"Stay close," Keene said quietly.
Naomi nodded, moving deeper inside.
⸻
Across the street, Calder watched from the shadows of an alley.
He had followed just far enough to see them enter the building.
His jaw tightened.
"Too soon," he muttered.
Vale's SUV rolled past at the end of the block, slow and silent.
The hunt had started.
⸻
Inside the warehouse, Naomi's eyes landed on something scratched into the concrete floor.
A symbol.
Not a word.
Just a crude outline — a square with a line through it.
She crouched, tracing it lightly with her finger.
"Hollow did this," she whispered.
Keene stepped beside her. "What does it mean?"
Naomi's voice came low.
"It means this wasn't storage," she said. "It was a checkpoint."
She stood, scanning the crates again.
One of them sat slightly out of place — lid cracked open just enough to notice.
Keene moved first, flipping it open carefully.
Inside lay stacks of sealed envelopes.
And a smaller metal box.
No money.
No weapons.
Just paper.
Naomi pulled one envelope free, opening it slowly.
Inside — photos.
Different faces.
Different locations.
And on the back of each, Hollow's handwriting:
"Next pieces."
Her stomach turned.
"This wasn't about cash," she whispered. "He was building something bigger."
Keene opened the metal box.
Inside sat a single key… and another folded note.
He handed it to Naomi.
Her hands shook slightly as she unfolded it.
Two words stared back at her:
"Trust no one."
A loud bang echoed from outside.
Both of them froze.
Keene's head snapped toward the door.
Footsteps.
Multiple.
Naomi's pulse spiked.
"We're not alone," she whispered.
⸻
Outside, Vale's men spread quietly along the edge of the building.
Calder cursed under his breath, stepping back into deeper shadow.
"This is about to get loud," he muttered.
⸻
Inside, Keene pulled Naomi toward the back hallway.
"We move now," he said.
She didn't argue.
The warehouse felt like the rowhouse again — walls closing in, secrets pushing up from beneath the surface.
As they slipped through a side exit, Naomi glanced back once at the open crate, the envelopes spilling slightly into the dim light.
Hollow's blueprint wasn't about hiding.
It was about positioning.
And they had just stepped into the first trap.
Snow swallowed their footsteps as they disappeared into the night — the sound of engines roaring to life behind them.