(Bryce)
I checked my watch. Seven fifteen. Time to move.
The Iron Room was exactly where I remembered it. The same rusted door, the same flashing streetlight casting uneven shadows on the cracked sidewalk. I pushed through the entrance and let my eyes adjust to the dim interior.
Vance was already there, sitting in the back corner with his usual whiskey. He looked up when I approached, his expression unreadable.
"Bryce," he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from him. "You look like hell."
"Thanks for the pep talk." I sat down and signaled the bartender. "What do you have for me?"
Vance leaned forward slightly. "Sophie Lawson. Interesting choice. Most people don't go digging into families like that without good reason."
"Marcus Sterling hired me."
"Ah." Vance nodded slowly. "
