By the time River stepped out of the Fallen Sky's bar, the sky had begun to lighten with the faintest shades of dawn. A faint chill lingered in the air, and the streets of the Red Light District had quieted, with only a few stragglers stumbling through the alleys.
"It's already past four," River muttered, glancing at his phone.
"You're lucky," a voice said behind him.
He turned to see the same woman who had escorted him out. Her arms were folded, her eyes sharp and unwavering beneath the soft glow of the streetlamp.
"Why?" River asked, tilting his head.
"You're still alive," she replied matter-of-factly, as if she were stating the weather.
River chuckled. "She seemed nice."
"I wouldn't call her that," the woman said. "And if you value your life, you won't come back until you've proven your worth. She gave you a chance. Most people don't get that."
River smirked. "We'll meet again."
