*Michael*

I waited for twenty minutes outside a seedy bodega; the sidewalk in front of the store was glowing from the neon signs in the window. The entire place smelled of stale beer and urine. Just when I had enough and was contemplating walking away, a man in a black tracksuit bumped into me, slipping a large padded envelope under my arm.

“Watch where you’re going next time,” he called as he walked away from me.

I tucked the ...