"Hey, hurry up! Can't you see the line?" an old man snapped behind her. His rough voice made Mindy jump. She tightened her grip on the payphone receiver and looked over her shoulder. Too many people. Too many eyes. Too many chances for someone to recognize her. Her pulse hammered harder with every second she stood there.
"Sorry," Mindy whispered into the phone, her voice shaking. "I can't stay on the line, Ken. There are people here. I have to go." She kept scanning the street through the scratched glass booth. Every shadow looked dangerous now. Every passing car felt like a threat. She was running out of time.
"Listen carefully," Ken said, his deep voice sharp and firm. "Three blocks south. Old textile warehouse on Fifth Street. Red door under the fire escape. Go there now, and don't st
