Jay kicked a loose pebble, each step slower than the last. as he strolled past the edge of the main road, hands in his pockets, shirt unbuttoned at the throat.
The market wasn't crowded—half the stalls looked half-asleep—but that suited him fine. He wasn't here for fruit or fabric—he just needed a place where the silence didn't echo so loud.
A woman waved from a cloth stall. "Back again, city boy?"
Jay flashed a grin. "Miss me already, Auntie Mira?"
"Don't flatter yourself. You just owe me for that scarf you borrowed last year."
He walked over, flicked at the corner of her display. "Still holding grudges, huh?"
"Only expensive ones." She swatted his hand gently. "What're you doing here, anyway? You never show up this early."
Jay shrugged. "Thought I'd be useful this time."
Auntie Mira squinted at him like he'd spoken in riddles. "Useful how?"
"Helping with harvest. You know—sweating, pretending to care."
