The L approaches. The line of shiny silver train cars screeches to a stop. I stay close to Atlas’s side as we snake through the exiting passengers and shove our way through the connected doors into the last car.

Atlas wedges himself between a guy in a blue-and-white-striped jersey and another in a T-shirt, who are busy chatting with their friends.

The doors swish closed. We lurch forward, and I grab the back of one of the seats as the train picks up speed. I glance at Atlas, who is slowly looking around the car—no longer interested in talking. He’s surrounded by people, but to anyone who looked closely, it would seem that he’s alone.

His jaw is clenched. His weight is balanced on the front of his feet, making him ready to bolt at any moment. And his eyes—they are dark and intense and searching as they shift from person to person until they finally fall on me. “Next stop.”

I follow him onto the platform and onto the next train. This one isn’t as crowded, but Atlas stops me when I start to slide into one of the orange plastic train seats.

I stay standing and grab one of the silver poles as Atlas leans toward me and quietly says, “When you sit, you relax. When you relax, you let down your guard. Keep standing. Keep watching. Be prepared to take action.”

“Watching for what?” I ask, looking around the train at the people riding with us.

“People watching you.” He points to one of the advertising posters that run along the top of both sides of the car, then nods to a man at the end of the train who, every couple of seconds, looks up from his phone and studies the remaining passengers.

SEE SOMETHING UNUSUAL? WE WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT. HELP KEEP CHICAGO STRONG AND SAFE.

“When we get off at the next stop, follow my lead. We’re going to look for anything that will confirm what’s in that file. If we do, we’ll figure out our next steps from there.”

Atlas reaches for my hand, and I take his in mine as we exit the train and walk slowly toward the block that I see every night in my dreams. I try to move faster, but Atlas tugs me back. “People see what they want to see as long as you don’t give them any reason to think different. If we look like we’re out on a date, people will assume that’s the case. No one will think we’re searching for things that we’re not supposed to know about.”

I force myself to smile and give one-word answers to the inane questions Atlas asks to make it look like we’re a couple. He isn’t buying my acting skills. “If this is how you think a date is supposed to go, Meri, I can see why you’re on your own.”

“Some of us have more important things to think about,” I shoot back. “You should understand that.”