“I’m the one who wiped them,” Mya said softly. “I was the asset. Before I burned my own handler. I’ve been running from them ever since.” She tapped the napkin. “The location is the old Ferris wheel on the pier. Midnight. They think the height provides a clean signal. And I’m giving you the access codes because I can’t stop them alone.”
“One more thing,” Mya said as Abby reached the door. “The partner you lost in Prague. Her name was Anya. She wasn’t killed in the fire. She’s the one running the auction.” abby winters mya
Abby’s blood chilled. Her handler, a man named Sterling with a face like a cracked leather wallet, had been adamant. Black market antiques. Destabilizing regional powers. Intercept or destroy. “Then what is it?” “I’m the one who wiped them,” Mya said softly