Victor moved through the city like a man who had nothing left to lose and everything to prove. He kept his head down, hood up, and walked fast so the rain could hide his face and the crowd could bury his steps. The small phone Marcos had given him buzzed once inside his pocket. He glanced down, no caller ID, just a short message and an address. The note Marcos had slipped into his hand earlier matched it.
He crossed the old train tracks and ducked into another part of the city he hadn't been in for years. Storefronts here closed early. It was the kind of place people passed by quickly and didn't stop to see who lived inside doors like these. This place had once been home to him, his sisters and his parents before his sisters became an Hult
