Page 90 of The Last Morgan

Lucy drifted through the dusty interior, brushing her fingers along the worn counter where she used to sit and sneak pastries when no one was looking.

Barnaby’s device beeped loudly.

"Got something!" he chirped, excitement in his voice.

Lucy and Byron came over. Barnaby was pointing toward a framed photo on the wall. It was old, slightly faded — a picture of her parents, arms around each other, beaming with pride on the bakery’s opening day.

Carefully, Lucy lifted the frame. Behind it, taped haphazardly to the cracked wallpaper, was a tiny plastic envelope containing a gleaming gold coin.

Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled it free.

Barnaby was already pulling on gloves. "Give it here — gently!" he said, handling the coin like a piece of glass.

He pulled out a portable scanner and began running tests on it immediately. Lucy watched, bemused, as Byron took her arm and led her to sit by the wide, broken storefront window.

"You need a minute," Byron said quietly.

She nodded.

They sank down onto the dusty wooden bench by the window, half-shielded from the street. Byron stretched out lazily, his arm brushing hers.

Lucy glanced sideways at him, her lips quirking into a small smile. "You're really bad at subtlety," she teased.

Byron shrugged, smirking. "Not trying to be subtle."

He leaned closer, voice dropping low. "You’re too tense. You know how I could help with that?"

Lucy laughed softly. "Not here, Romeo. Save it for somewhere less... dusty."

Their eyes locked, the moment charged — playful, teasing, but the tension between them simmered just under the surface.

Before either could make another move, Barnaby’s voice interrupted.

"Guys! It's not just a coin. It's... part of the key."

They jumped up and hurried back.

Barnaby was holding the coin under a UV light. Etched so finely into the gold, it was invisible to the naked eye, were faint grooves.

"It’s part of a three-piece set," Barnaby explained. "Think of it like a segmented key — you need all three pieces to unlock whatever it’s guarding."

Lucy tucked the coin away safely in her jacket.

“One down,” she said, breathless. "Let’s go find the other two"

The next stop was the private hospital her family owned, it was stark against the sky, its grey bricks making it look like a tombstone among the bustling city streets.

Lucy’s stomach twisted.

"You don't have to go in," Byron said quietly, walking at her side.

"I do," she whispered.

Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed. The smell of antiseptic burned her nose. Memories crowded her mind — afternoonsspent waiting for her mother in the volunteer lounge and sneaking chocolate bars from the vending machines.

Barnaby’s device beeped slowly as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Lucy’s fingers brushed the walls as they walked, her mind somewhere between past and present.