Chapter 19 Needle And Thread

• The safehouse hums too quiet when they slam the door behind them — Bishop’s voice still a dull echo in the hall, Decker’s boots heavy on the porch as he checks the street for any stray eyes left behind.
• Ellerei slips into the bathroom before any of them can say Are you— or Let me—. She’s good at that: the vanishing. The I’m fine.
• The mirror’s cracked in one corner, toothpaste crusted in the sink where Bishop keeps forgetting to rinse. She braces her palms on the counter, breath shallow where the bullet grazed — low along her ribs, just under the curve of her breast where the dress clung too tight to hide the red stain.