Madison knew walking into Starbucks was suicide, but what choice did she have?
She gripped Agent Martinez's business card so hard the edges cut into her palm, reading the hastily scrawled message for the fifteenth time: Change of venue. University District Starbucks, 3 PM. Come alone. Your roommate's safety depends on compliance.
Every instinct screamed danger. The last-minute location change. The public venue that offered visibility but no real security. The way her apartment building had felt like a fishbowl since dawn, with shadows moving behind windows across the street and cars that appeared too often in her peripheral vision.
But the alternative was worse. Much worse.
Through the coffee shop's windows, she could see the usual afternoon crowd—students with laptops, business meetings over overpriced drinks, the comfortable normalcy of people whose biggest worry was upcoming finals. Madison envied them so deeply it physically hurt.
