**The Limo**
The ride back to the penthouse was quiet, but the air was thick with unsaid words. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. William turned to Sophie, the adrenaline of the gala fading into a heavy, intimate exhaustion.
“You were incredible tonight,” William said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
He leaned in. Sophie didn’t pull away. The distance between them closed until they were inches apart, the “Spy Nanny” and her target on the precipice of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. William’s gaze dropped to her lips. He hesitated, the memory of Victoria battling with the reality of the woman before him. They almost kissed, suspended in the gravity of the moment.
**The Logbook**
Thousands of miles away, in a dusty hospital archive in Northern Italy, Marcus Thorne sat under a flickering fluorescent light. He had bullied his way into the records room of a small clinic near the Swiss border.
He ran his finger down the handwritten ledger from the previous winter.
*Date: January 14th.*
*Patient: Jane Doe. Female. Approx 25 years old.*
*Condition: Hypothermia. Head trauma. Severe retrograde amnesia.*
*Notes: Found in snowbank near the pass. No ID. English speaker.*
Marcus stopped breathing. The date matched the avalanche exactly. He traced the words “Jane Doe,” his hand shaking. He had found the ghost.