The flickering fluorescent bulb overhead hummed a low, dying note, casting long, skeletal shadows across the peeling wallpaper of the 3rd Street house. Luca pushed his half-empty bowl away, the steam from the stew long gone, leaving only a cold, greasy film. He leaned back, his slender frame looking deceptively fragile against the hard wood of the chair.
"The schedule changed today," Luca said, his voice dropping into that smooth, crystalline tone that belonged to the Enigma, not the intern. "Malcolm isn't keeping us in the Tower next week. The interns are being sent to the Northwood Retreat—a private estate owned by Deviloy. It's a mandatory two-week intensive training. Team building, they call it. Isolation from the city's distractions."
