Tal had forgotten what outside smelled like after dark.
Curfew air was different: thinner, like the city was breathing shallow so no one would notice it was still awake.
He and Nia moved close to the wall, half‑supporting Mrs. Haro's sister between them. The older woman leaned on Tal's shoulder with surprising weight, breath rasping in tiny, angry huffs.
"I told them it could wait," she muttered. "Old women are supposed to sit quietly and die when the Board says the hour is inconvenient."
"Lucky for you we are disrespectful," Nia said.
They slipped down the narrow back stairs to the alley.
This was Route One test run of the new map.
Across two courtyards, through a gap in a rusted fence, then along the edge of a drainage channel that smelled like everything unpleasant in Twelve‑Lower had taken turns living there.
Somewhere above, a drone buzzed.
Tal froze, counting heartbeats, watching its lights crawl across the slice of sky between buildings.
It passed without slowing.
