"Eyes. Corners," Zubair murmured, voice low.
They moved without hesitation.
Lachlan pointed at Noah, then to the leftmost aisle. Two fingers. No words. Zubair flicked a glance toward Sera and tilted his chin. She nodded and fell in behind him, silent.
This was their rhythm. Their world.
Her job was simple: don't break it. Don't fuck it up. Don't get them killed
The team rounded the end of the aisle.
A woman stood frozen near the pharmacy counter, her back braced against the wall. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties, thin and pale, with her hair knotted into a messy bun like it had been pulled in panic. Behind her, a toddler whimpered in a shopping cart. It was too small to be so underdressed in this cold, and his face was blotchy from crying.
Her hands shot up into the air. Empty.
"Please," she whispered. "I didn't take anything. I just—please."
