Page 27 of Ghost

I try not to let it sting.

“Here.” Legacy spins the laptop around to give me a clearer view.

Scanning the accounts, nothing looks familiar. “No. None of that matches.”

He turns the computer toward himself again and clicks through a flurry of browsers.

Watching Legacy dig through bank accounts is like watching Ghost write a string of code. Muscle memory. Second nature. It makes me miss my fingers on the keys doing something meaningful.

It’s been so long since I’ve hacked anyone; I barely remember the rush of it.

Legacy opens a spreadsheet and finds the tab he’s looking for. “They gave a set of guidelines for what you were searching for, correct?”

“Yes.” I reach into my back pocket, pulling out a piece of scrap paper. “But I don’t remember much off the top of my head. I tried searching my old emails for our communications, but someone wiped them.”

“Ghost can probably dig it out.”

“I already tried. It’s gone.”

Legacy glances over at me, and doubt flares in his eyes at the reminder that the club only uses me for a fraction of what I’m capable of. If I couldn’t find the emails, Ghost wouldn’t be able to either, and from the look on Legacy’s face, that’s not a settling thought.

“But…” I hand the piece of scrap paper to Legacy. “I was able to recover this. They had me searching for an account ending in these four digits. They didn’t say what for.”

Legacy picks up the paper, and his teeth clench.

“That bad?”

“It’s not good.” He sets the paper down. “What were you told to do if you located it?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah… I thought it was strange too.”

Usually, if I was hired to hack someone, there was an end goal. But this employer made sure I stayed in the dark. They’d only send instructions one at a time, delivering the next set if I made it past the previous one. I never knew what I was after or what they were going to do if I found it.

Legacy closes the spreadsheet, opening a pdf printout of another account. I don’t recognize the business name at the top.

“How much were they supposed to pay you for that job?” Legacy asks, scrolling through the withdrawals.

“Five grand.”

Legacy skims down the screen. “There’s a withdrawal matching that amount on the day Ghost shut you down. But you said they never paid you.”

“They didn’t.”

“Well, they paid someone.” He points to the screen, and sure enough, five thousand dollars left the account on the day Ghost caught me hacking the Twisted Kings.

“It could be a coincidence, right? Payment for something else?”

“It could be, but I doubt it. Money always talks.” He closes the pdf and slaps the laptop shut. “That’s all for now. I’ll get this to Steel and let you know if we need anything else.”

“Okay.” I slide off the stool.

“And Luna…”

I pause, looking back at Legacy. He skims me over, opening his mouth like he’s about to say something. But he stops himself, shaking his head.

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