Dawn was a grey smear over the rooftops when Yara slipped into the streets, her cloak pulled low and her breath tucked behind her teeth.
She hadn't slept. Not really. Just stared at the coin until the crack blurred and faded, then stuffed it into a pouch and wedged it deep in her pack, beneath the dried meat, the flint, and the new things she had purchased earlier.
Fuck. Why can't she catch a little break?
She'd already made her choice.
She wasn't working with Rolen. She wasn't crawling back into his blood-and-bargains world. And she sure as hell wasn't helping him smuggle anything, no matter how many sweet lies he wrapped around the threat.
No. Yara would vanish like smoke.
Again.
