POV: Maya
She arrived at noon. A black car, moving down the narrow lane toward the safe house with the unhurried confidence of something that did not expect to be stopped. Isla saw it first from the window and went still in the particular way she went still when she was assessing threat level. Then her shoulders dropped slightly and she said, "Courier. She's neutral."
I did not know what that meant yet. I stayed where I was at the kitchen table and watched through the window.
The car stopped. The door opened.
The girl who stepped out was nineteen at most, but she moved like someone who had been fully formed for years. Tall, effortlessly put together, dark hair pulled back with the kind of casual precision that took real effort to achieve. Her face was striking in the architectural way
