REINA

Morning crept into the apartment in thin, pale stripes, slipping through the half-closed blinds and stretching across the living room floor.

Calestino had fallen asleep on the couch sometime before dawn, but he was already awake when I came downstairs.

He looked exactly the way he had the night before—black T-shirt, jeans, boots still on, like he had never really intended to sleep. A gun rested on the coffee table beside him, placed there with the casual ease of someone who had carried weapons his entire life.

His gaze lifted from his phone the second he heard me.

It was the same look he always gave me. Quick. Professional....