The quiet never lasted in Birmingham.
Not in Small Heath.
Not in the Shelby family.
And especially not when a ghost had returned.
It began with a whisper.
A name spoken too loudly by a drunk constable in the Garrison.
Grace Burgess.
Not a barmaid. Not a lover.
A spy.
Polly had always known.
Her eyes were sharper than most, her instincts older than the city itself.
"She smells like the law," she'd muttered once, watching Grace pour whiskey with the grace of someone trained, not born into it.
But now there was proof.
And it landed in James's hands before anyone else.
He stood in the back office, the report heavy in his fingers. The kind of file that didn't just fall into someone's lap. This had been placed. Planted.
And he knew exactly who had done it.
A single card tucked into the pages confirmed it:
"Thought you'd want to know who's really been lying to your brother. —C"
James stared at the name on the cover: Grace Burgess — Section D, Assigned to Inspector C. Campbell
Everything in him froze.
The girl Tommy had bled for.
The girl James had watched linger in doorways, share smokes, catch Tommy's eyes like a hook in a fish's mouth—shewas the Judas.
For a moment, he considered burning the file.
But he didn't.
Because lies had weight.
And it was time Tommy carried his share.
James dropped the file on Tommy's desk like a guillotine.
Tommy glanced at it once—then slowly opened it.
The silence stretched thin as razor wire.
Wordless pages turned.
Then Tommy stood.
Back straight.
Expression unreadable
.
"She was working for Campbell this whole time," James said, not needing to ask.
"I know," Tommy replied quietly.
James blinked.
"You knew?"
Tommy lit a cigarette. His hand didn't shake. "Found out a week ago. After Kimber. She tried to tell me before, but—she hesitated. That was enough."
James stared at him, a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. "And you let her stay?"
"I let her walk."
James looked away.
Something twisted in him—something more than rage.
It was the old ache. The one from before the trenches. Before Birmingham. The ache of trust, broken.
"She lied to us, Tommy."
"She loved me, James."
"She betrayed you."
"She saved my life."
Neither brother spoke after that.
The silence between them felt colder than the wind outside.
That same night, while the Garrison buzzed with business, James slipped into the shadows once more—this time headed for the heart of the enemy.
He knew where Campbell would be.
And Campbell knew he was coming.
They met in the cemetery behind the cathedral, beneath stone angels and rain-slicked graves.
Campbell stood with his hands in his pockets.
"I see the file found its way to you."
James approached slowly, the rain soaking his collar.
"You really think you can use her to break me?"
Campbell smiled, snake-like.
"No, no. I think I can use you to break him."
James said nothing.
So Campbell stepped closer.
"You've always been the better brother, haven't you? Stronger. Smarter. Cleaner. Chosen, even. But they don't see it, do they?"
James's jaw clenched.
Campbell's voice dropped.
"Tommy would burn this city to ash for her. And he'd burn you too, if it meant keeping his little kingdom."
A beat.
James didn't blink.
Didn't move.
But something inside him shifted.
Campbell saw it.
A flicker of hesitation.
And in that moment, he knew: the game had changed.
"You and I aren't so different," Campbell said softly. "Men touched by something more. Men left to clean up the mess."
James's eyes hardened.
"You're nothing like me."
Campbell smiled.
"Not yet."
James returned to the Garrison at dawn.
The fire was still warm in the hearth.
Tommy sat in his chair, staring at the empty glass in his hand.
"You went to see him," Tommy said without turning around.
James stepped into the light.
"I did."
Tommy finally looked up.
"And?"
James stared back.
Cold. Steady.
"I didn't kill him."
Tommy nodded once, exhaling slowly.
"That's good."
But the silence that followed was not peace.
It was war
.
Quiet. And coming.
Outside, the sun broke through the clouds.
Birmingham never stayed dark for long.
But for the first time since his return...
James wasn't sure where the shadows ended.
And where he began.