Capol felt the city shrinking around him. Every corner carried a threat. Every whisper smelled of blood. He’d learned to tell the difference between a city scared and a city breaking - this one was breaking. His crew was splintering with it and the safehouse felt smaller every day.
Vince was still gone.
Capol didn’t ask where — not out loud. The others didn’t either, though the silence around Vince’s absence had started to thicken like storm clouds. Julian sat in the glow of his monitors, burying himself in his screens, eyes raw from sleepless nights. His headset digging into the dent it had carved into his hair, his eyes scanning feeds with a desperate focus that came only from exhaustion.
Jerry split his time between strategy, limping home to Lucy and nursing bruised ribs in the bac
