s didn't come back, but little details started to surface-her dislike of strong coffee, her

her better judgment. At night, she would sit on the terrace, watching Mira wander th

lit a cigar, Marco approac

blem," he said

exhaling a plume of smoke

ere's chatter in the underworld. A rival crew's been sniffing around the c

ightened. "Do the

it's only a ma

a wasn't just a lost soul. She was a target, and by saving her