MARTHA'S POV
The coffee shop was nearly empty. Just me, an elderly man reading a newspaper, and a bored barista.
I sat in the corner booth, fingers drumming on the chipped table. The envelope felt heavy in my purse. Five thousand dollars. Everything I had left.
The door chimed. Daniel Chen walked in…mid-forties, average height, forgettable face. He slid into the booth.
"You have the payment?"
I pulled out the envelope. He counted quickly, tucked it into his jacket.
"They're creatures of habit," he said, pulling out his phone and showing me photos. "Same park. Same time. Between two and four PM, like clockwork. The woman sits on that bench." He swiped to another photo. "The kid plays on the playground. Red and yellow structure. Usually the slide."
My heart pounded as I studied the im
