She called him. He answered after five rings with the weary politeness of someone already braced for disappointment. Theo worked for Larkhaven's emergency planning department. He had inherited his father's quick calculations and his mother's stubborn questions, though he believed he owed neither parent thanks for the combination.
'Hi, Mom. Is everything all right?'
'I want to ask about the waterfront drainage maps.'
A small silence. 'Are you calling about work?'
'In a way.'
'We're reviewing flood exposure. Why?'
'Have you seen the model for Bellwater Street?'
'Not the final one. Mom, can this wait until the weekend?'
'Only if the rain can.'
He exhaled. 'I'll call tomorrow.' The line went quiet before she could ask how he was sleeping or whether he still kept the old bicycle in his hall.
At midnight, her phone lit with an unfamiliar number. A message contained a photograph of Meridian's basement barrier, now standing open. Beneath it were seven words: THEY ARE REMOVING THE GATE CONTROLS TONIGHT.
Nora reached for the brass key on the bedside table. Outside, the rain strengthened, as if a second ocean had found its way into the sky.
CHAPTER 03
The Man With a Silver Pen
The taxi driver did not ask why a woman in a cleaner's coat needed to cross Larkhaven at one in the morning. He had a dashboard full of miniature plastic ships and the grave expression of a man driving through weather that would be discussed for years. Nora watched rainwater climb the curb as they approached Meridian. The building rose from the mist with only its highest floors visible, a lighthouse designed by people who disliked ships.
Amir was waiting by the freight entrance. 'I sent the picture,' he said. 'Sorry I didn't call. The security line is being recorded.'
'You did the right thing.' Nora handed him the money she had intended for the taxi home. 'Keep this in case you need to get someone out.'
'I don't need your money.'
'Then consider it a loan to your better judgment.'
They descended in the freight lift with the lights pulsing faintly overhead. Beyond the barrier, a door had been propped open with a toolbox. Nora heard voices and the dry click of metal against metal. From the landing she could see three workers dismantling the control panel of the south overflow gate. New cables were coiled beside the old ones, each labeled with numbered tape. A tall man in a charcoal raincoat supervised, holding a silver fountain pen as if it were a badge of office.
'That panel is part of an active flood system,' Nora called.
The men turned. The supervisor examined her uniform before looking at her face. 'This is a restricted site,' he said. 'Please leave.'
'Are you the licensed engineer responsible for the isolation?'
'I am directing an authorized project.'
'That wasn't my question.'
He smiled with practiced impatience. 'My name is Roland Price. I'm here on behalf of the prospective buyer.'
'Prospective?' Nora took one step closer. 'A sale hasn't been completed.'
'Its completion is a formality.' Price clicked the pen shut. 'I suggest you concern yourself with whatever your employment agreement actually covers.'
The nearest worker lowered his wrench. Nora recognized the metal bracket in his hands: the manual override lever that could open the gate if digital controls failed. It had taken three specialists a week to design its locking mechanism. She knew because she had drawn the original assembly details, long before she had lost the appetite for introductions.
'Put that lever down,' she said.
Price's expression changed. 'Security, remove her.'
Amir remained beside her. 'We need an engineering sign-off to isolate equipment during a storm warning.'