They met on the roof because the air felt more honest where there were no ceilings.
The city glittered like expensive lies. Below, traffic wrote restless cursive. Rafael stood at the ledge, hands in his pockets, listening to the building breathe.
“You’re quiet,” she said.
“You like it when I am,” he said without looking over.
“True,” she admitted, stepping beside him. “But not when you’re thinking about leaving.”
He let the idea hang like a coat on a hook and didn’t take it down. “Cesare hired a fence. He’s digging into me.”
“Let him break his nails.”
“He’ll find someone,” Rafael said. “A woman from a border checkpoint. Two years ago.”
“Yours?”
“A past,” he said. “Not a promise.”
She nodded once. The wind lifted a strand of hair; he tucked it behind her ear with the absent care o
