Morning broke gently over the rooftops, the sun peeling back the lingering darkness in shimmering gold. The streets of the quarter were already awake, noisy with chatter and the steady clatter of cart wheels. Vendors hawked their wares from ramshackle stalls, the smell of baked bread and roasting beans curling through the air. Children darted between the feet of strangers. Above it all, the hum of the city life grew louder with each passing moment, as though the day itself demanded to be heard.
At the edge of the marketplace, a man stumbled back out of his doorway, dragging a pair of wooden crates behind him. His face was still red from the shouting match inside the house, and his wife's shrill voice could still be heard through the half-open window.
