Talia finds Yusuf Bahri the way she seems to find everything difficult on this floor, through a contact she'd rather not admit to having.
"She works out of a bookshop," Talia says, leading me and Renn down a side street two blocks from the Exchange, far enough away that it feels like a different city entirely. "Real bookshop, actual inventory, actual customers. The information business happens in the back room, by appointment only."
"How do we have an appointment?" Renn asks.
"I called in a favor I've been saving for fourteen years."
The bookshop itself smells like old paper and coffee, warm and unassuming, nothing about it suggesting the kind of business conducted in its back room. A bell chimes as we enter, and a woman appears from behind a shelf, unhurried, studying the three of us
