Rey had barely returned to a secure location—a rented room in district seven under yet another false identity—when the communication Artifact in his possession activated with a soft pulse of energy.
He recognized the mystical signature immediately: Elara.
Rey activated the device, and her voice emerged, strained but controlled. "Helt. Are you safe?"
"For now," Rey replied, allowing exhaustion to color his tone. "Though I'm not sure for how long. What about you?"
"Secure, temporarily. I..." She paused, and Rey could hear the weight of the night's events in that silence. "I heard about your shop. The explosion. The Guards are saying it was an accident, but—"
"It wasn't," Rey interrupted grimly. "I was attacked. In my own establishment, by someone who clearly knew the layout, knew where I'd be."
"What happened?" Elara's voice sharpened with professional interest despite her own trauma.
