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I breathed in the scent of wet concrete as I opened my door. Rafe killed the engine and climbed out, moving to my side as I closed the door. The frantic rush of the market rushed back in an instant. Forklifts moved at my right in a savage rhythm. Workers yelled commands in different languages. Crushed fruit beneath boots.

It was almost like I never left.

Rafe moved and I followed weaving amongst stacked crates. Tarps flapped at my right. The sharp scent of bruised strawberries filled the air. Flickers danced at the corner of my eyes. The moment I shifted my focus to the movement they were gone, leaving the same empty gloom behind.

I tracked the sound of steps.

In front.

Then at my right, falling into step beside me.

“You’re late.”

The thud of boots never missed a beat. “You stopped calling.”

“The tapes. The other operations. Did they end?”

“The moment you commanded.”

“Were they… resolved elsewhere?”

“I stopped tracking. Are you asking me to find out?”

Silence stretched a heartbeat too long.

“This about the girl?”

Her humming returned to me without invitation. “Yes.”

“Consider it done.”

A weight settled inside me.

“Rafe.” He muttered.

“Malek.”

Then the sound of his boots disappeared back into the frenzy of the market. I kept walking, slowing as we stepped beneath hanging tarpaulins and into the crush of the stalls. My senses sharpened instinctively. Movement. Machinery. Voices layered over one another in different languages. I collided with something solid.

“Careful.” Rafe growled.

“Sorry, Sir.”

I turned toward the voice and reached outward. My fingers brushed soft flesh. Fruit. I lifted it to my nose. Overripe. I placed it back and reached for another. This one. I held it out.

“Mr. Voss,” the vendor said quietly.

The accent familiar. So was the caution behind it.

“Four more like this,” I said. “Strawberries. Raspberries.” A pause. “Perfect ones.”

“Yes, Sir. Anything else?”

Nyssa surfaced immediately in my mind. Her softer breathing after nightmares. The way the sweetness settled her.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “Dragonfruit.”

“Right away, Sir.”