Scarlett’s POV
It was raining again. The kind of steady, whispering drizzle that softened the world, blurred lines, and made even the sharpest truths seem far away.
But I was done letting myself be lulled.
I checked the recording device one last time beneath the inner fold of my coat, ensuring the red indicator light was off. Hidden. Silent. It was small, no larger than a thumbnail, but sensitive enough to pick up whispers. Even breaths. The very kind Miriam once used in her field training days, though she hadn’t asked where I got mine.
She didn’t need to.
Miriam knew what I was doing.
I pulled my hood up and stared at my reflection in the rain-slick glass of the bakery window I passed. For a second, I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me.
She looked sharper. More alert. Le
