Damien’s POV
We expected a dirty job. We expected lies. We didn’t expect the way the air went quiet right before it broke.
It was Emilio, he came back like he was walking on glass, eyes wide, hands shoved deep in his pockets the way a kid hides a shame. Christiano had him at the gate with two men, faces blank, hands slow like they’d rehearsed calm. The boy smelled wrong. Not just fear something gone under the fear, like someone had scrubbed him and left a trace of someone else’s hands on him.
He insisted on meeting us at the old warehouse, said he didn’t feel safe coming anywhere near the usual checkpoints, and because he looked like he might piss himself if we pushed him harder, I agreed. Sometimes fear makes people stupid, but sometimes it keeps them alive, and I wanted to see which
