"Madam Lin," Heena said, her tone shifting from sarcastic banter to cold, absolute authority. "Make sure you bolt the heavy iron doors from the inside tonight. Drop the crossbar. Do not open the shop for anyone, no matter what they say. If someone tries to force the shutters, take the boiling water from the stove and pour it out the second-floor window first, ask questions later."
At the table, Ren completely froze.
The damp rag in his hand stopped moving across the wood. His heart leaped into his throat. The sheer, chilling paranoia in Heena's instructions made the quiet safety of the apothecary suddenly feel very fragile. Beside him, Fei Yu shrank slightly into himself, his dark eyes darting toward the front of the shop.
Madam Lin tossed her toothpick onto the table, her sparse eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"Lock the doors?" the old woman asked, crossing her arms. "Where exactly are you going at this hour? The sun is completely down, and you have a busted hand."
