My heart wasn't just beating; it was thundering against my ribs like a trapped bird trying to break through bone. The air in the tiny, dim shop felt like it had turned to lead, making every breath a struggle. I stared at the woman in the charcoal linen with a spinning mind.
"Who are you?" I managed to choke out.
The woman didn't answer immediately. She simply adjusted the single strand of pearls at her throat, her eyes never leaving mine. "I am someone who values the truth, even if I have to dig through the dirt of the Outer District to find it. Let's just say I have a particular talent for gathering information that others would prefer stayed buried."
"She's a spy. Or worse, a bored aristocrat with a grudge. Don't give her an inch, Wave. If you blink, she'll see the shacks in your eyes." Pia hissed, voice on high alert.
