Jonathan's POV
The night shift fell to me.
I already knew it was going to be a long one. The drug spot was packed, and the streets were buzzing like always.
A few guys had put together an impromptu pagode circle. Some drummed on Styrofoam coolers while others clapped along, beers in hand, laughing loudly. The favela was alive, just like it was every other night.
I moved through the crowd with a joint between my fingers, watching everything out of the corner of my eye, keeping track of everyone coming and going.
Every laugh.
Every whisper.
Every suspicious move.
I caught it all.
This wasn't the kind of night to let your guard down.
As usual, the conversation drifted toward the same old bullshit.
One guy bragging about the girl he'd hooked up with after making bail.
Another claim
