The flight to Lisbon was tense.

Dante had called ahead. Arranged for security to sweep Marta's neighborhood. To watch her apartment. To make sure this wasn't an elaborate trap.

Everything came back clean. Marta Silva was exactly who she said she was. A sixty-eight year old woman dying of cancer. Living alone in the same apartment where she'd raised Isabela.

No criminal connections. No suspicious visitors. Just an old woman waiting to meet her grandson.

Still, Dante insisted on precautions. They approached the building carefully. Security stayed outside. Watching. Ready to intervene if anything went wrong.

Leo was excited. He loved meeting new people. Especially people who knew his mama....