The grey city was different tonight.
Not the buildings—they were the same, sharp and cold. Not the fog—it still lingered at the horizon. But the air between them had changed. Lighter. Less like waiting and more like working.
He was standing at a low wall, his hands spread across a surface that hadn't been there before. A table, flat and grey.
Sari walked toward him.
When she reached his side, she saw what he was looking at. A map. Not of the grey city—of her village. The rice paddies, the temple, the compound, the spring. The well. The paths that connected them.
“How did you—”
“I've been paying attention,” he said. “To everything you've told me.”
She looked at the map. It was crude—lines and shapes, not a real drawing. But the landmarks were there.
“Show me where the poison comes f
