“You didn’t know,” he said gently. “When you unpacked your things, you started using this thermos again. Hawthorne flagged your address after your birthday approached. I embedded myself here to intercept any attempt to reach you before I secured the decryption keys.”
“So the alley,” I said, my throat tight. “The coffee. The sandwiches. That was just your assignment?”
He held my gaze.
“The assignment ended a week ago. I had enough evidence to bring Hawthorne down. I could have disappeared. But I realized if I left, you’d go home on your birthday and walk straight into an explosion.”
A flicker of emotion crossed his face.
“I stayed because you’re the first person in ten years who looked at me and didn’t see a role. Or a disguise. You saw a man.”
My eyes burned.
He handed me a small envelope. Inside was a passport with my name, a new address, and a set of keys.
“The drive is already with federal investigators. Hawthorne’s headquarters is being raided as we speak. Your father’s accounts—hidden, protected—are being transferred to you. You’re financially secure, Emily.”
The words felt unreal.
“But more importantly,” he said softly, “you’re free.”