Rainwater streaked unevenly across the windows of the black town car while downtown traffic crawled through the city in blurred ribbons of white and red light. Galathea Brooks sat motionless in the passenger seat with her disconnected phone resting uselessly inside her lap while passing storefronts reflected faintly against the glass beside her.
The city outside looked painfully normal.
People crossed intersections carrying grocery bags and umbrellas. Restaurants glowed warmly against wet sidewalks. Somewhere near the next block over, a couple laughed while waiting beneath a bus stop awning.
Nobody looked erased.
Cael Alexander drove quietly beside her with one hand resting near the wheel while the other remained loosely curled against the center console close enough to reach for her if she needed it.
He had not asked too many questions after arriving at the payphone.
That frightened her more than panic would have.
