Call it off

Curtis

It had been ten days since Inferno went ablaze but I hadn’t been able to talk about it. Part of me still wanted to think it was all a nightmare and I would wake up and go to work as usual.

However, that was a worse waste of time than the Greek lessons I was trying to learn on my own. I wasn’t well-versed in languages, to begin with; I had closed countless business deals all over the world but couldn’t tell what language the other party was speaking if I didn’t know their nationality.

Yet here I was, using a Greek dictionary and a handbook to learn enough of the language to translate what was carved onto Miles’s chest. So far, I had managed to figure out that the last symbol on the message was a delta. At least I was getting somewhere.

I slammed the dictionary shut. At this pace, there was only one place I was heading—to a psychiatric ward.

A soft knock announced Angelica’s arrival at the library before she opened the door a crack and poked her head in. “Can I come in?”

“O