Peering over her shoulder to be sure she wasn’t being watched, Raven surreptitiously removed a flash drive from her backpack and quickly copied the relevant images. She could barely contain her excitement, her leg jiggling back and forth.

She’d just transferred the flash drive to the zippered pocket of her backpack when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” A voice addressed her in English.

She jumped in her chair and let out a loud expletive.

“Shhh!” the archivist hissed from her desk, which was across the room. She glared at Raven over the rims of her glasses.

Raven nodded meekly before looking up into the guilty eyes of her friend Patrick.

He mouthed a quick “Sorry.”

“What are you doing?” she whispered, quickly closing the files that she’d opened on the computer.

“I came to ask you the same question.” He nodded at the computer screen.

Raven glanced at the archivist, then at her friend.

“It may be nothing.”

Patrick’s gaze moved to the archivist as well before he spoke. “Gina wants you to come over to have dinner with us tonight.”

Raven looked over at their mutual friend, Gina, who was working on the other side of the room. She waved.

“So it’s official? You’re an ‘us’?”

Patrick grinned. “Yeah.”

“I’m happy for you. I’d love to have dinner with you both, but I have to pick up a few things after work.”

“That’s all right. Do you have your Vespa?”

“It’s waiting for me at the shop.”

“I’ll take you to pick it up after work and we can meet at Gina’s later. Okay?”

“Thanks.” Raven smiled.

Patrick picked up a piece of paper and scribbled a few words. He left the paper next to her computer before returning to his desk.

Raven glanced at his writing.

You forgot about the cameras.

“Shit!” she muttered.

She crumpled the paper and shoved it into her backpack.

She looked around the room, trying not to appear obvious as she located the security cameras in the four corners.

She’d been so excited about her potential discovery, she’d forgotten about them. Now the gallery had footage of her downloading files to a personal storage device without permission. It was a serious offense. And, given her recent circumstances, she doubted Dottor Vitali would be lenient.

She looked over at Patrick, who shook his head. He seemed just as worried as she.

He picked up his cell phone and began typing.

A few seconds later her phone chimed with a text.

What r u doing?

Raven quickly answered him.

Forgot about the cameras.

She could hear Patrick’s huff of disapproval from across the room.

Raven turned to look at the archivist, but she seemed preoccupied by her own work.

Raven’s phone chimed again.

You need to be more careful.

She couldn’t disagree. She was about to type a suitably contrite response when the telephone on the archivist’s desk rang.

As if in slow motion, she turned around.

The archivist was nodding and agreeing to something. When she finished her short conversation, she waved Raven over.

Raven walked to her desk, slowly.

“Dottor Vitali wishes to see you in his office. Now.” The archivist’s tone was brisk. “Make note of where you left off in your project and log out of your computer.”

I am in so much trouble.

Raven ground her teeth as she returned to her desk. With a few short mouse clicks, she logged out of her computer. She took a clean piece of paper and listed what she’d accomplished that morning.

She picked up her knapsack and handed the paper to the archivist.

“Raven, wait,” Patrick called to her.

He walked her to the door.

“Hand me the flash drive,” he whispered, holding his hand out.

“What?”

“So they can see us.” His eyes flickered to the side, where one of the cameras was positioned in full view of the door.

She shook her head. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“You’re already in trouble.” He lifted his hand higher.

Raven looked over at the archivist, who was watching them intently.

“This is your job, Patrick.”

“A job I have because you covered my ass when I forgot to file the radiographs. Now we’re even.” He moved his hand in front of her nose. “Give me the flash drive.”

Raven muttered a curse and unzipped the pocket of her knapsack. She retrieved the flash drive and handed it to him.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” His voice was loud, too loud, and the archivist hushed them once again.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Tell Vitali I asked you to copy the files. If they confiscate the drive, I’ll help you get the files another way.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Raven gave him a worried look before exiting the archives.

“So do I.” He grimaced.

As Raven climbed the stairs to the second floor, she contemplated an alternative explanation, one that would exonerate Patrick. Nothing came readily to mind. She couldn’t even mention William York and his connection with Palazzo Riccardi.

Raven would never allow someone she cared about to be hurt. This was the core of her being. She’d made a mistake; she would take responsibility for it, even if it meant losing her position at the gallery.

She gave herself a short pep talk and approached Vitali’s office just as a loud female voice, speaking English, echoed down the corridor.

“Codswallop! I’ve been wandering the streets of Florence since before you were born. Clare and I will be fine for a couple of hours.”

Raven stood outside the open door, her palms sweating. She wiped them on her yoga pants.

“Katherine, the city isn’t safe.” Professor Emerson sounded exasperated.

“I don’t believe that for one moment,” the woman replied.

Taking a deep breath, Raven knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Vitali called, in Italian.

She entered the room and found the Emersons talking with an older woman who had short white hair and snapping blue-gray eyes. She was pushing a stroller in which Clare was seated, playing with a toy bunny and oblivious to the tension around her.