The next morning, Black Hollow felt different.
Not because of the weather.
The weather was the same.
Gray skies.
Cold wind.
Rain threatening somewhere beyond the mountains.
No.
The difference was inside the bar.
Everyone was tired.
Nobody said it out loud.
Nobody complained.
But I could see it.
The break-in had changed things.
The danger wasn’t approaching anymore.
It had arrived.
And everyone knew it.
I stood behind the counter drying glasses while Maria handled the lunch crowd.
The task was mindlessly simple.
Which was exactly why she gave it to me.
Because every time I stopped moving, my mind immediately returned to Daniel.
Daniel wasn’t in charge.
The thought kept replaying.
Again.
And again.
And again.
If Daniel wasn’t running things, then who was?
And how po
