But the code wasn't coming.
Leo stared at the six glowing digits on the stranger's screen. 4-8-2-0-1-3. The key to his entire digital life, held hostage by a ghost. The code was real. His access was a lie. And the rain just kept falling.
The rain was tapping a frantic rhythm against the café window, but all Leo could hear was the roar of his own pulse. His laptop screen glowed in the dim light, a single white box blinking on an otherwise empty Gmail login page.
"Looking for 482013? Don't bother. Mark sends his regards. Change your recovery phone? He did. Yesterday. The company votes tonight. You lose."