Ben stood at the counter and sorted through the mail, ignoring the huffing and loud flip of pages coming from Tenzin’s loft.

If she starts throwing my books again…

More huffing. More page flipping.

Ben’s irritation mounted with every passive-aggressive huff.

Chloe looked up from where she was working at the research table. She had her laptop open, but she glanced between the loft and the kitchen, her eyes getting wider as the tension in the room built.

“You know, I think I’m going to go into the pub early tonight.” She stood and closed her laptop. “I think Gavin wanted to do inventory tonight, so… yeah. That sounds like a really good idea.” Then she muttered under her breath, “Please don’t let there be bloodshed.”

Tenzin shouted, “There wouldn’t be any bloodshed if Ben would just be reasonable!”

“Damn it,” Chloe hissed. “It is freakish how good her ears are.”

“Gavin’s are probably just as good,” Ben said. “Might want to keep that in mind.”

Without another word, Chloe fled the loft.

“I do not care how many times you suggest it,” he said calmly. “I am not going to Puerto Rico.”

Tenzin flew out of the loft and hovered over him, tossing the glossy travel magazine to the ground. “Pirate. Treasure! How hard is that to understand?”

“Not interested,” Ben said.

“How can you not be interested in Spanish treasure?”

“There are a hundred easier ways to get gold than running around after fictional treasure.”

Tenzin glared at him. “Who said it’s fictional?”

“Me.”

“Is this because of your grandmother?”

Ben’s mouth fell open. “How did you… No, I don’t care. And it’s not— This has nothing to do with my family, Tenzin!”

“I went with you on the stupid painting thing—even though art is a completely fabricated market that depends on—”

“—on the whims of a handful of self-important collectors,” Ben repeated the tired phrase. “Yes, I’ve heard that argument from you before. I’d still rather chase a lost Renoir than Spanish pirate treasure.”

“But this is gold, Benjamin. Gold. With actual monetary value in the millions of dollars.”

And it’s pretty and shiny, he mouthed.

“Yes, it is pretty and shiny!”

He slammed down the stack of mail, no longer trying to feign disinterest. “You are suggesting we follow a treasure map, Tenzin. A treasure map to some caves on an island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. A treasure map.”

She crossed her arms. “And?”

“Do you not hear how insane that sounds? It’s a treasure map!”

“That your uncle has authenticated.”

“All that means is that it was produced during that era; it does not mean that whoever drew the map was sane. Or that he or she possessed any treasure. Or that if there was a treasure that it’s still there and hasn’t been looted!”

She hovered over him, her mouth set in a grim line. “I am going to Puerto Rico. You know you’re going to come with me, or I’m liable to cause an international incident.” With that, Tenzin flew back to her loft and pulled up the rope ladder.

Every curse his father had ever taught him flew through his mind. “So pendejo!”

“I know what that means!” she yelled from the loft. “I’m still going.”

Ben grabbed his phone and wished he could still punch in numbers, because punching anything sounded really satisfying in that moment. Giovanni’s phone rang three times before his uncle picked up.

“Hello, Benjamin.”

“I cannot believe you told her about that damn map.”

“I didn’t think she’d become so enamored with the idea,” his uncle said with a laugh. “I’ve told her about other treasure maps in the past and she’s been completely uninterested. There’s no predicting her.”

Tenzin shouted, “Tell him to send us the map!”

“I’m not sending you the map,” Giovanni said. “Tell Tenzin the map doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to a cartography collector, and he would never allow me to loan it to someone.”

“Sorry, Tiny, we can’t get the map,” Ben said. “Guess we’re not going.”

Tenzin said, “Send us a copy of the map!” at the same time Giovanni said, “I suppose I could make you a copy.”

Ben closed his eyes, drew in a long breath, and let it out.

“Fine,” he said. “Send us a copy. I guess we’re going to Puerto Rico.”

* * *