Nico Vitale’s head was heavy – as if he’d been asleep for days. No matter how hard he willed his eyes to open, it was as though they were disconnected from his brain. He felt as if he was being carried somewhere, cradled like a small child. There was the smell of sweat mixed with cigarettes and cheap cologne. They were going downstairs. The air was colder – much colder than the cloying mustiness of the previous room. He just wanted to go home. Maybe that was where the man was taking him – to his mother and stepfather, to his warm bed and Trisola’s delicious meals. How could he have done this to his mamma? She was so busy and he just wanted her to notice him. To love him the way she used to before she met Lorenzo and decided that the whole of Italy needed her more than her own son. He didn’t even know if his grandfather would have wanted to see him – that was a fantasy, a distant memory of a man who had once loved him very much.

Nico heard the squeaking of a door.

‘You will be safe here until your mother decides to do the right thing and then you will be allowed to go,’ the man said. ‘And I promise, if you attempt to escape, it will not end well.’

Nico tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. The last thing he remembered before now was eating soup. It wasn’t as good as Trisola’s, but it filled his belly and almost straight away he’d become sleepy. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he recalled the tolling of church bells.

The man lowered Nico onto a bed. This time the mattress was hard as a rock, but the blankets were warm and he snuggled down. If only he could wake from this nightmare, he would surely find his way back home.

Max pushed back the covers and tiptoed to the window, which looked out over the Trevi Fountain. Even at half past two in the morning, there were still tourists wandering about taking photographs and tossing coins. He wished that his parents had said more. What was the lead they were following, and what – or who – were they looking for? Knowing they were here in Rome was almost worse than thinking they were thousands of miles away.

In the room directly above him, Kensy was wide awake too. She’d been going over the message, trying to make sense of it and wondering whether she and Max would get to see their parents. Autumn hadn’t asked her anything more about the watch, which she’d found surprising given that she wouldn’t have been able to help herself if the shoe was on the other foot. She wondered if Autumn was just being super professional or maybe she was waiting for the right moment. Kensy needed to talk to Max – he’d know what to say. Autumn was so clever – she’d probably worked out that it was Morse code. Kensy wished she didn’t have to keep it a secret any more. It would make life a lot easier.

Kensy peered into the street below. A fancy Italian sports car was parked out the front of the orphanage. She loved Ferraris while Max preferred Aston Martins. Kensy thought Ferrari engineering was more interesting. While the twins had often joked that one day they’d both drive the cars of their dreams, that never seemed remotely possible until now. She could imagine the Ferrari was the sort of vehicle their Uncle Rupert would be very comfortable in. She couldn’t help thinking that he was something of a conundrum – moody one minute then bags of fun the next. Hopefully, she and Max would get to know him a lot better in the coming months and they’d find out who the real Rupert Spencer was.

The door to the orphanage swung open and a woman walked out. She had long dark hair and wore skinny jeans and a tight leather jacket with heels so high Kensy marvelled that she could even stand upright in them. Kensy watched as a man in a pinstriped suit got out of the black sports car and embraced her. There was something vaguely familiar about him. He then walked around to the passenger side of the car while the woman hopped into the driver’s seat. The engine revved loudly and in a second they were gone.

From the floor below, Max had also seen the car. It was gorgeous. He wondered when he and Kensy would get another opportunity to test their driving skills – with any luck, the car wouldn’t try to kill them next time. At least there hadn’t been any mishaps during the past few days. But if there was one thing Max had learned since entering the world of Pharos, complacency was a trap he wasn’t about to fall into.