Cormack O’Connell was leaning against the bar at Lucky’s Lounge. It was a dark, step-down hole-in-the-wall with scarlet Naugahyde bar stools and matching booths on the south side of Fort Point Channel, just inland from the expanding waterfront district. For decades, when the area had been surrounded by warehouses and parking lots, it had been a favorite of the Southie scruff crowd—a place where crooks and street runners felt comfortable, and where few questions were asked. Since the first office buildings and luxury apartments had been built, though, it had been overrun with Millennials who seemed determined to seek out every “authentic” place they could find and ruin the very authenticity they sought. At ten o’clock on a Tuesday night, though, the place was quiet, and Cormack could pretend that the world hadn’t changed in the ways that depressed him. He lifted his Tullamore to his lips and took a sip. One was all he would allow himself on this evening. He needed to be sharp in the morning.

“And I want you and Buddy at the courthouse. Vincente Carpio’s got a court appearance, and there’s a chance Soh and his men will try something there.”

“We’ll be there. I’ve got all my people on alert,” Cicero said.

“This whole city’s on edge,” Cormack said. “It’s the cold. Everyone in this city’s been cooped up inside for more than a month. It’s unnatural, and it’s got people ready to let loose.”

“They say the cold snap is ending soon. Maybe that’ll bring things back into line.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Cormack said. “But you know what happens when you freeze something solid and then heat it up too fast.”

Cicero nodded. “It shatters.”

“It does,” Cormack said. “Into a thousand pieces.” He took another sip of his whiskey. “Make sure everybody’s ready for anything.”

“I love you.”

Steam wafted off her lips as she said the words. It was like they had a physical presence, but the steam faded after a moment. She and Buddy were standing on the widow’s walk on the top of Cormack’s house. Leaning against the railing, they could see all the way down to the harbor and out toward the Atlantic.

“I love you, too,” Buddy said, looking down at her.

She pulled at his jacket sleeve. “I mean it,” she said. “I need you to know.”

He turned to face her. “Are you worried about something?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What about it?”

“I have a bad feeling. I can’t explain it, but it feels like something is going to go terribly wrong.” He took her in his arms and she pressed her face into his chest. “I don’t want to lose you. For the first time in my life, I feel like I might have a future. I don’t want to raise our baby alone.”