The next morning, Jess had entirely forgotten about the drawing she’d come across the day before. She woke up before dawn, in the marshy black of the city at night, and went through her duties with rehearsed ease—she showered, dressed, and laid out clothes and a plate of toast for her uncle as though on autopilot. He usually woke after she’d left, so she knew it would go stale, but so long as she didn’t have to worry about him tiring himself out, she was happy.
Jess pulled open the curtains of her bedroom, taking in the orange streetlights, not yet shut off, and the handful of early morning commuters already driving past their little apartment. They didn’t live far from the shop—only fifteen or twenty minutes via bus—but their area of the city was far more rundown than the touristy line o
