Page 26 of All The Pretty Little Lies

I join him at the railing, looking out over the glittering expanse of Boston. From up here, the city looks almost peaceful, its darker undercurrents hidden beneath a veneer of twinkling lights and towering skyscrapers.

"Got some new information," I reply, my fingers drumming against the cool metal. "A lead on a big auction coming up. Could be our chance to finally get some real answers."

Zaire turns to face me, his eyes searching mine. "Oscar," he begins, his voice soft but firm. "We need to talk about this. About Vesper."

I feel my jaw clench, my body tensing at the mere mention of her name. "What's there to talk about? She's out there, Zaire. I know it."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's been two years, brother. Two years of chasing shadows and dead ends. You're not living anymore, you're just...existing."

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I take a step back. "What are you saying? That I should just give up? Forget about her? She’s gone because we failed her."

“We did what we could, and it didn’t work. We tried. That’s more than most can say about the situation.”

I turn away, unable to meet his gaze. The city blurs before me as unbidden tears sting my eyes. "You don't understand," I whisper. "I failed her, Zaire. I promised to protect her, and I failed."

I feel his hand on my shoulder, a comforting weight. "You didn't fail her, Oscar. We were all blindsided by what happened. But you can't keep chasing a ghost, Oz.”

I shake off Zaire's hand, unable to bear the weight of his concern. My eyes scan the cityscape, searching for something, anything, to latch onto. The neon signs blur into streaks of color, like tears on the face of the night. I can't shake the feeling that she's out there, lost in that sea of lights, waiting for me to find her.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. I hear her voice. She's not a ghost, Zaire. She's real, and she's out there somewhere."

"I got a potential lead tonight.” I turn back to face my brother, my hands gripping the railing so tightly my knuckles turn white. "This lead...it's different. There's an auction coming up. Big players from overseas are flying in for it. Whatever they're selling, it's worth millions."

Zaire's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of interest breaking through his mask of concern. "What kind of auction?"

"The kind that deals in 'exotic merchandise,'" I spit out the words, disgust coating my tongue. "It's a whole new operation, run by someone called 'The Collector.'"

I watch as my brother processes this information, his brow furrowing in thought. The tattoos on his arms seem to shift in the dim light, like shadows dancing across his skin. For a moment, I'm struck by how different we look now, despite being twins. While I've remained unmarked, Zaire has embraced the family traditions, his skin a canvas.

"Oscar," he says slowly, "even if this lead pans out, what makes you think Vesper will be there? It's been two years. The chances of her being part of this particular auction..."

"I know it's a long shot," I interrupt, running a hand through my damp hair. "But what if she is? What if this is our one chance to find her? I can't...I won't let it slip away."

The city hums below us, a constant reminder of the life that goes on, oblivious to our struggles. A siren wails in the distance, and I wonder briefly if it's racing towards another tragedy, another life about to be shattered.

"We need to be smart about this," Zaire says, his voice taking on the tone he uses when planning operations. "If this auction is as big as you say, we can't just go in guns blazing. We need intel, a solid plan."

I nod, feeling a surge of gratitude for my brother's unwavering support, even when he doesn't fully agree with me. "I've got a contact working on getting us an invitation. Once we're in, we can gather more information, maybe even identify some of the major players."

Zaire's eyes narrow. "An invitation? Oscar, we can't risk exposing ourselves like that. If Victor finds out we have an operation of our own, we’re good as dead. Same for Alex and Talon.”

"Victor won't find out," I assure Zaire, my voice low and steady. "We've been careful, brother. As far as he knows, we’re off traveling the world like our social media accounts would suggest.” Alex had put in a lot of work to throw off Uncle Victor going so far as to sync the location on our phones Victor provides us to mimic the location where we should be at the time. How he did that, I had no fucking idea, but it’s been working. You don’t mess with a tried and true formula until you need to tweak it. If he only knew just how deeply we were operating in the shadows, gaining influence with some of the less powerful families. The Second Sons is the only thing keeping the playing field even now that he lost his Rossi alliance.

I turn back to the cityscape, my eyes tracing the familiar skyline. The Prudential Tower stands tall and proud, a beacon in the night. To its left, the John Hancock Tower reflects the city lights like a mirror, its glass surface a canvas for the urban glow. These landmarks have become more than just buildings to me; they're silent witnesses to our struggle, and our growth.

"Think about it," I continue, my voice gaining strength. "Two years ago, we were just a couple of outcasts with a crazy idea. Now? We've got a network that spans half the East Coast. The Moretti family in New York, the Caruso in Philadelphia - they're all working with us now. Hell, even the O’Brien in South Boston are starting to come around."

I can see Zaire's reflection in the glass, his face a mixture of pride and concern. "I know we've come far," he admits. "But this auction...it's different. We're talking about major players, Oscar. The kind of people who could wipe us out with a phone call if they found out who we really are."

I turn to face him, meeting his gaze head-on. "That's exactly why we need to be there. To draw out the major hitter. The Collector has something rare to sell.”

The night air is cool against my skin, carrying with it the faint scent of the harbor. In the distance, I can hear the low, mournful sound of a ship's horn.

"We've been building this network for two years," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Every contact we've made, every favor we've called in...it's all led to this moment. We're not the same scared kids we were when we started this, Zaire. We're smarter, stronger."

I watch Zaire process my words, his eyes scanning the city below us. I can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the risks against the potential rewards.

“If this lead doesn’t pan out, I’ll stop chasing her.”

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