The Silk Cage

Evelyn's loom wove nightmares. Each pull of the thread etched coordinates into the fabric—shipping routes, drop points, names. She memorized them, pricking her finger to write in blood on her apron.

At midnight, the women were herded into a damp cellar. The girl from earlier pressed a rusted key into Evelyn's hand. "Pour les fichiers."

The file room stank of mildew and ink. Ledgers listed "shipments" to ports in Algiers, Istanbul, New Orleans. A photograph slipped from a folder: Ronan, standing beside a 19th-century clipper ship, unchanged.

Marseille, 1873. Ronan in a tailcoat, negotiating with a silk merchant. "The Harts will supply the thread. You supply the silence."

Footsteps echoed outside the file room.