CHAPTER 1 The wind didn’t just blow in Griffintown; it hunted. It funneled off the Lachine Canal, sharp as a glass shard, carrying the scent of frozen iron and old secrets. Chloe Tremblay pulled her collar higher. The wool scratched her neck. She was twenty-four, a coder for a gaming startup on Rue Peel, and she was late. The city was a study in grayscale. The sky was lead. The snow was ash. The canal was a jagged vein of black ice cutting through the ribs of the industrial district. Then she...

CHAPTER 1 The wind didn’t just blow in Griffintown; it hunted. It funneled off the Lachine Canal, sharp as a glass shard, carrying the scent of frozen iron and old secrets. Chloe Tremblay pulled her collar higher. The wool scratched her neck. She was twenty-four, a coder for a gaming startup on Rue Peel, and she was late. The city was a study in grayscale. The sky was lead. The snow was ash. The canal was a jagged vein of black ice cutting through the ribs of the industrial district. Then she...

The yellow glove lay in the snow, its frayed edges crusted with ice. Janitor Marcus Holt spotted it during his lunch break, its neon hue glaring against the muted alley behind the downtown bank. He nudged it with his boot—stiff, abandoned—but something glinted inside. A silver USB drive, nestled in the thumb. Curiosity overrode caution. That evening, Marcus plugged it into his library computer. Folders labeled "Transaction 12/21" popped up—security blueprints, timestamps, voice recordings. A ...

The yellow glove lay in the snow, its frayed edges crusted with ice. Janitor Marcus Holt spotted it during his lunch break, its neon hue glaring against the muted alley behind the downtown bank. He nudged it with his boot—stiff, abandoned—but something glinted inside. A silver USB drive, nestled in the thumb. Curiosity overrode caution. That evening, Marcus plugged it into his library computer. Folders labeled "Transaction 12/21" popped up—security blueprints, timestamps, voice recordings. A ...