Our Broken Howls
“We walk it twice. Check the business alarms and we are done.”
“And if it’s not quiet?” I ask, bracing myself.
“Then we handle it,” he says, turning his face away.
The streets are empty. A car hums past us. A dog barking at something only it can see. Kaelen moves like he owns the shadows, every step calculated, controlleda and silent. I trail behind him, careful, holding my breath, and trying to be nothing.
Halfway through the blocks, the radio crackles with a male voice. “Unit Seven, disturbance at Mercy and Fifth. Domestic, possibly violent.”
Bab Populer