The night was black as ink.

Inside the dark sedan, Scarlett felt the air closing in. She reached over and rolled down the window, letting in the city's noise and warmth — the hum of traffic, the smell of street food, the quiet pulse of ordinary life.

The driver caught her mood. "Don't worry, Ms. Summers," he said carefully. "What happened back there — I won't mention it to Mr. Hadley."

Scarlett blinked, then let out a faint, "It's ...