Katelyn’s POV

The hotel wasn’t like the polished ones back home. Its walls were painted a faded cream, and the lamps flickered on and off with the unstable power supply.

Still, it was safe, or at least safer than most places in the city. The owner was a wiry man with sharp eyes who watched everything with quiet calculation.

He came to greet us personally when we checked in. His gaze lingered on Ethan and me, the way Ethan carried my bag without complaint, the way I leaned toward him when I ...